


Misaligned

by PhoenyxInAshes



Category: As It Is (Band)
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Minor Character Death, Self-Harm, Suicide, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2019-09-15 07:04:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 35,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16928700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenyxInAshes/pseuds/PhoenyxInAshes
Summary: Patty wakes up one morning to find himself and Ben trapped in the music video universe of The Great Depression. Patty is alarmed but also intrigued. Ben is Not Happy. Patty just wants to make the world a better place. Ben thinks that's a great idea, but maybe they should do that by actually getting back to their own reality.





	1. Act One

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so...I don't even know what this is. I do know that these boys and this band and this album have made me feel things about life and music that I haven't felt in a very long time. 
> 
> This could very well be a disaster. I sincerely hope it doesn't turn out to be. I think the conversation around mental health, depression, suicide, and self harm is an important one, and one that needs to be carried on with a great deal of tact and understanding and delicacy.
> 
> It isn't a simple conversation, or a particularly enjoyable one. There's a million questions, just as many answers, and not every answer suits every person. Mental health is a complex subject, and I don't take delving into it in this format lightly.
> 
> While I'm using real people, it's a completely fictional universe, and Patty and Ben are characters in it. I'm not adding any based-in-truth information that isn't readily available with a simple Google search, and any reference to actual events is meant to move the story forward, and is focused on things they have been open and honest about already. The reactions and problems they face in this story are fiction and in no way, shape, or form reflect any assumption or knowledge of their current mental or emotional states.
> 
> That said, the reality of the album, it's songs, the videos, and the background of the artists themselves means touching on some very sensitive subjects. This isn't going to necessarily be a particularly enjoyable read, but I hope it will be a thought provoking one.
> 
> The warnings are all there for a reason, but things aren't as bleak as they may make it seem. I don't have a desire to break anyone. Just to perhaps get a little more understanding in how we react to those we perceive as already a little broken.

**Act I**

 

**The Wounded World**

 

Patty woke up to a pounding in his head and a distressed voice insistently assailing his ears.

 

"Patty! Patty! You need to get up right the fuck now. I mean it! You better not be dead or something. That would just be my luck. What the fuck is going on?"

 

Patty cracked one eye open and stared blurrily at the figure standing over him.

 

Ben was glaring in his direction, practically vibrating with nervous energy.

 

"Ben, my alarm hasn't gone off yet. The hotel better be burning down," Patty grumbled as he forced the blankets over his head in an attempt to block out Ben's presence.

 

Only to have them immediately pulled back down, revealing Ben's expression.

 

Patty paused.

 

Ben was much better than he was at maintaining a poker face. Patty had conditioned himself to put on a facade of calmness or happiness if necessary, but he always felt like he probably wasn't fooling people as well as he used to before they knew what to look for.

 

Ben, on the other hand, was a master of looking unaffected the vast majority of the time. Patty knew better, but it was a lot harder getting through Ben's defenses to his true thoughts if Ben didn't want to share them.

 

So the naked fear that was currently displaying on his face had Patty instinctively upright and sitting on the edge of the bed, tugging Ben down to sit beside him.

 

"What's wrong?"

 

Ben flopped down beside him, shaking his head with a violence that had Patty wincing, the pounding in his own head only intensifying in sympathy with the movement.

 

"Am I drunk? I don't feel drunk. Maybe I partied a little harder than necessary last night, but I expected a hangover, not to go crazy this morning. Are you in on this? I mean, pranks are one thing but this is just...what the fuck, Patty?"

 

Patty blinked, wishing his own head hurt a little less. It might have made it a little easier to make sense of Ben's rambling. That was a lot of swear words in a very short period of time. Ben was definitely bothered by something.

 

Stress could give him headaches, but he hadn't been particularly stressed last night. Being on the road wasn't easy, but things had been going remarkably well this tour. They had even had a night in an actual, decent hotel.

 

And he didn't drink, so he knew he wasn't hungover. Although Ben's alarm was definitely rubbing off on him. He could feel the tension building in his shoulders already, and purposely tried to force his body to relax.

 

He wasn't particularly successful.

 

"Ben, I have no idea what you're going on about. What's wrong?"

 

Patty tried to keep his tone calm, channeling back to his therapist's reactions during his own rougher sessions, because it certainly sounded like Ben was on the edge of a breakdown.

 

Patty seriously didn't know what to do about that information. Ben was supposed to be the consistent, steady one. It was a weird switch to randomly wake up to.

 

Ben, on the other hand, had more important things to worry about than Patty's internal monologuing.

 

"We're not in the hotel anymore."

 

Patty tried to make sense of a sentence that simply did not compute.

 

"We're...what?"

 

He glanced around the room, noticing the same bed, the same chest of drawers and television that were in the room when he had fallen into bed the night before. 

 

"Ben..." Patty broke off, unsure how to react. He usually had a response ready for every question or comment, no matter how personal, rude, or downright bizarre the statement had been. Years of answering interviewers and fans had equipped him with a fairly good arsenal of polite responses.

 

None of that had equipped him for his band's guitarist to apparently take leave of his senses.

 

"We're not in the fucking hotel. We're..." Ben's tirade shut down almost as soon as it started, and he suddenly looked alarmingly drained, like the reality he was trying to convey was simply too exhausting to deal with.

 

"I think we're in the wounded world."

 

Patty tilted his head to the side, thoroughly confused.

 

"Okay...I mean, the world's a mess, but we knew that. Are you _okay_?" Maybe Ben had finally cracked under the stress. Patty knew all too well how that could happen. He started silently sifting through emergency numbers in his head, trying to figure out exactly how to get Ben help in the middle of a tour when he wasn't actually currently one hundred percent sure where they even were.

 

Ben rolled his eyes and glared. 

 

"Don't do that."

 

"Do what?" Patty had to make a concerted effort to refocus. Ben snorted.

 

"I haven't lost my mind. Don't act like I just went crazy. I don't mean the world is broken, which- yeah, it is- I mean we're in the Wounded World."

 

Ben drew capital letter W's into the air as he spoke. "Like, in the fucking music video."

 

Patty wasn't exactly reassured of Ben's claim of sanity.

 

"The music video."

 

"Yes!" Ben nodded emphatically, and then stood up, tugging on Patty's arm. "You're just going to think I'm insane. You need to see this."

 

Ben paused, staring at Patty critically. "Actually, put some clothes on. If we're in some insane alternate reality, and the room disappears when we leave it, you probably shouldn't be walking around in your underwear."

 

Patty stood, eyeing Ben concernedly as he sidestepped his way carefully around his agitated best friend and fished around in his duffel bag for a change of clothes. He quickly dressed, wondering if he should try to keep Ben talking or just get his phone and text one of the others for backup while Ben continued muttering under his breath.

 

Patty thought he heard something along the lines of "This has to be the weirdest ass dream I had ever had, what the hell, Patty," followed by, "If this is some sci-fi parallel universe shit your book reading ass has gotten me into, I'm going to kill you."

 

Patty wasn't exactly a stranger to feeling emotionally compromised, but he hadn't ever had actual hallucinations, or lost touch with reality, or whatever the hell this was. He bit his lip as he finished dressing and picked up his cell phone.

 

"Ben...why don't you just sit down for a second," he urged. "I think...maybe it might be a good idea we could just talk about what's really going on with you."

 

Ben's eyes drifted to the phone in Patty's hand and he laughed. It wasn't a happy sound. Patty literally had to suppress a nearly involuntary shiver.

 

"Go ahead. You're convinced I've lost it. Call someone. One of the guys. Your family. My family. Your therapist. Anyone. Try."

 

Patty scrolled through the numbers, at this point almost thoroughly convinced they needed professional help. He'd call the band first though. They'd made a promise after everything that had happened to stop hiding the important stuff. This seemed extremely, seriously important, and if Patty was honest with himself, he didn't feel equipped to handle it on his own. 

 

Ali's number wouldn't go through. Foley's didn't either. Patty's therapist's number was disconnected. 

 

Ben nodded. "I can't get through to anyone either," he confirmed, and while he still sounded worried, Patty was starting to wonder if maybe he was actually justified.

 

And then Ben walked across the room and opened the door.

 

All Patty could do was stare.

 

"What the fuck is that? That...is not the hallway we were in last night."

 

Ben was actually starting to calm down a little, now that Patty was on board with the idea that something was actually wrong, and that Ben hadn't just had a psychotic break.

 

Which was great, because now Patty was starting to wonder if he needed to panic.

 

"It's a completely different building," Ben confirmed. "Other than your room and mine, which are still right next to each other. And still look the same as last night. Oh, and you'll love this. The Wounded World exhibit is downstairs."

 

Patty stared at him.

 

"What?"

 

Ben nodded. "Or, sort of? Mostly. I think...Patty, I think either we were knocked out, kidnapped, and transported to some replica of the music video set, or we're in the damn music video world."

 

Neither of those alternatives sounded remotely possible to Patty. On the other hand, he couldn't exactly come up with a reasonable alternative.

 

"Who would...we're not famous enough for this," Patty protested, realizing immediately how insane he sounded.

 

Ben was looking at him like he agreed with Patty's internal analysis.

 

"That's your response? It would only be logical if it happened to somebody famous?"

 

Patty shrugged helplessly. "No, I mean no one has the money or power to pull this off. No one we know. ROAM or Waterparks would probably find it hilarious, but I doubt even Awsten has this kind of pull."

 

Ben shook his head. "Then it's a dream. I'm still dreaming. I'm having an alcohol fueled nightmare."

 

"If you are, I'm just a figment of your imagination, and I shouldn't be able to have my own thoughts, right?" Patty responded. "But I feel self-aware. It has to be my dream."

 

Ben rolled his eyes. "This is making my head hurt. You can have this dream. Dream me right out of it, would you?" he grumbled, moving to peer out the door and down the hallway.

 

"If you think about dreaming in a dream, and tell yourself to wake up, you're supposed to, aren't you?" Patty asked, slipping his useless phone in his pocket and walking to glance around Ben to check out the hallway himself.

 

"Patty, I swear, if I have to listen to this for the remainder of this dream, I'm going to kill actual you when I wake up in retaliation," Ben complained, shoving Patty out into the hallway.

 

"If it is a dream, maybe I need to do something to complete it," Patty offered, taking a few tentative steps down the hall before turning back to Ben. "We should figure it out."

 

"Slowly. Painfully," Ben continued pleasantly. "While you plead for mercy."

 

"If it's your dream, then dream me is trying to tell you something, and your subconscious should listen," Patty retorted. "If it's my dream, you won't remember making the threat anyway."

 

Patty continued wandering down the hall, pulling at random doors along the way. They were all locked.

 

Ben followed behind morosely, humming No Way Out to himself under his breath.


	2. Chapter 2

Patty pulled at every door they passed while Ben followed behind him, pressing his fingers to his temples to try to massage away the frustration induced pain.

 

"Patty? Patty...Patty. Seriously. What are you doing?"

 

Patty glanced backwards in surprise. "There's always a key, right? Or a secret code or something to get you to the next point you need to be at. If I'm dreaming, then it should follow somewhere in my mind I'm expecting an open door with a key, so there should be one, right?"

 

If this was Patty's dream, Ben's head should not be throbbing this badly. If it was his own dream, he wished he would wake the hell up.

 

If it wasn't a dream...

 

It was. It had to be. Ben wasn't going to entertain any other possibilities. 

 

"You don't need a key." Ben was impressed with the level of calmness he managed to keep in his voice. He was the epitome of patience. Patty should be impressed. Because he really, really wanted to shout. Loudly.

 

"The door is already open. I told you, remember? Our music video shoot location is currently downstairs. Like, right at the bottom of the stairs in some exhibition room. As in, I woke up this morning, opened my door, realized the hall was all wrong, went downstairs to try to find the staff to figure out what's going on, and nearly walked right into the room. And then freaked out and went to find you. You're not being very helpful, by the way," Ben grumbled as Patty finally started heading down the staircase.

 

Patty raised an eyebrow as he paused on the staircase. "Would you care to express exactly how I'm supposed to be reacting?"

 

"I don't know!" Ben threw his hands up in the air. "I expected more panic. I'm afraid we're losing our minds, and you're treating the whole thing like a damn Pokemon side quest or something."

 

"What does that even mean?" Patty asked, bewildered.

 

"I don't know!" Ben realized he was yelling. He forced himself to quiet down, focusing on his breathing. He counted slowly to ten while Patty watched him with a stupidly concerned look on his face.

 

Ben kind of wanted to smack him. He was not the crazy one, okay? Patty and his easy acceptance of the impossible and insane was clearly crazy.

 

And then he just felt guilty for thinking about Patty as being crazy.

 

Damn it.

 

Patty then apparently decided Ben needed to be dealt with what he internally referred to as The Voice. 

 

Ben wasn't fond of The Voice. Not when it was directed at him.

 

Ben was often in awe with how easily Patty could converse with people about topics that were dark, depressing, difficult, and traumatic. He had a way of putting people at ease and giving them an outlet to express their deepest secrets and fears, and simply accepting that and giving both his fans and his friends a shoulder to cry on or a supportive listening ear.

 

Ben suspected a lot of Patty's ability to deal with other people's emotions and problems came from his own history and the coping skills he had gained from his own efforts seeking help and seeing a therapist.

 

It could be incredibly helpful, particularly when he ran into a situation with a fan he wasn't sure how to respond to. Patty had a sixth sense about that stuff, and was almost always immediately there to help out. 

 

Usually, Ben was happy to have Patty there, echoing support and understanding and explaining his own issues in the hope it would help the other person connect to what he was saying.

 

But when Patty took that too careful, too patient tone, and directed at Ben, it set him on edge. He wasn't crazy, the situation was crazy. He had every right to be freaked out, and Patty needed to stop looking at him like he was about to have a breakdown.

 

He wasn't, but even if he was, he sort of felt like maybe he had damn well earned one, dealing with this alternate reality with a bandmate who had clearly read too many books or seen too many movies and apparently forgot what reality was supposed to look like.

 

"Ben? Ben!"

 

Ben had gotten so far into his own thoughts, he had blocked out Patty's attempts to talk to him.

 

"Sorry! I'm sorry, okay, this is just really fucked up," Ben said with a sigh. "I'm okay, all right? I promise. Can we just go check out this thing?"

 

Patty nodded in agreement, but that annoying concerned look didn't leave his face.

 

Ben ignored it and led the way down the stairs, stopping at a glass door that led to a large room that looked oddly similar to the room in their music video for The Wounded World.

 

The same sign advertising The Controversial Sensation! A Challenging Exhibit of Humanity's Greatest Failures was propped up on an easel just outside the door. Ben pushed his way into the room, noticing the same electronic devices, many of them cracked or broken on display. 

 

"They even have the poster," Patty's voice carried in the quiet room.

 

Ben glanced over towards where Patty had ended up, staring at the poster with the negative comments that had existed in the real world before they made it into the video and now in wherever they currently were.

 

Ben sighed, pointing to a roped off area with two acoustic guitars. 

 

"It appears we're expected to go unplugged this time," he pointed out doubtfully. "Just you and me, since Ali and Foley seem to have escaped this particular version of hell."

 

Patty glanced around them in alarm. "You don't think we're actually..."

 

Ben rolled his eyes. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

 

"No, Patty. I don't think we're actually in hell. We didn't die in the night and end up in our music video. If there is a hell, I doubt that's it."

 

"Surrounded by non stop social media kind of sounds like hell to me," Patty grumbled in response.

 

Ben could only shrug. 

 

He was trying to come up with a response that didn't make him sound insane when a perky voice interrupted his thoughts.

 

"As It Is! As I live and breathe. When they told me they had booked you guys to play here, I didn't believe them. It isn't every day we get a verified prophet in the house."

 

Ben swung around to stare at the pretty dark haired woman who was beaming at them expectantly.

 

"I'm sorry, what?" 

 

The mega-watt smile didn't dim. "I mean, granted, predicting the digital apocalypse isn't necessarily viewed as a good thing, but I always say, don't shoot the messenger, right?"

 

"Right..." Ben replied dazedly. "...Did you say prophet?"

 

The woman chuckled. "Well, you know how it is. It sounds better and sells more tickets if you give it a name. I'm sure Patty didn't actually have a vision or anything like they say. He probably just saw the writing on the wall. Anyone with eyes could see how depressing the virtual world was getting, right? So it was hardly a shock when all that negativity started getting to people. I mean, the suicide rate is higher than nearly every other death rate, people are almost entirely awful to each other online, and those new games that came out in the past few years where you get the most points for sending people over the edge in real life...well, you know what that's led to."

 

Patty's attention had moved from the room around them to the woman. "Games where...I'm sorry, what is today's date?"

 

"October fourteenth," came the easy reply.

 

"What year?" Patty asked, his voice strained.

 

The woman gave him a odd look. "2024," she replied.

 

The soft little squeak that escaped from Patty had Ben glancing at him in concern. 

 

The woman didn't appear to notice. "So, your presentation is set for 6:30," she explained helpfully. "The guitars should be all set. You might want to just double check that they're tuned properly. We're expecting a bit of a crowd. I think they're looking forward to hearing The Wounded World. I mean, at this point, there probably isn't much hope for things to get better, but people still look to you guys as a kind of beacon of hope. No pressure!" she finished brightly and then bounced out of the room.

 

Patty stared after her. "What. The. Hell."

 

"Yeah, that about sums it up," Ben confirmed. He pulled his own phone from his pocket. Maybe he couldn't call anyone, but he could at least check the time. "We have forty five minutes before people start showing up. What are we supposed to do?"

 

Patty shrugged, and started poking around the room.

 

"What are you doing?" Ben demanded. He was debating if they should just start running and never stop. And Patty was apparently scouting out the room like a undercover agent.

 

Patty glanced at him in surprise. "Looking for the megaphone."

 

Of course he was.

 

"You're actually going to do this?"

 

Patty nodded. "You have any better ideas? This seems to be the direction we're being pushed in. Maybe the next thing we need to do will become clear if we do it. I mean, it is what we do, right? We're musicians. It makes sense that we need to play."

 

Ben really wanted to disagree. He kind of hated that he couldn't.

 

"I hate you right now," he informed Patty wearily.

 

Patty just patted him on the head. "I know. You'll get over it."


	3. Chapter 3

Patty wandered through the room, taking a mental inventory of what was the same as the music video, and what had changed.

 

Ben wandered through the room behind Patty, taking a mental inventory of which one of them was currently crazier.

 

His bet was on Patty.

 

"Found it!" Patty announced triumphantly, holding up the megaphone that he had crawled up on top of a table standing on a raised platform to retrieve.

 

"You should probably stay up there," Ben replied dryly. "Considering you're going to need to get up there for the bridge if you intend to sing the song the same way you did in the video."

 

"I can't, it's going to sound ridiculous if we're playing it acoustic," Patty said, as if that were the most ridiculous part of the whole discussion.

 

"We could just completely change the song," Ben suggested. "Maybe if we played Winter's Weather we could find a mirror and break our way back into reality."

 

It was a testament to how weird his life had gotten that he wasn't entirely sure if he was joking or not.

 

Patty didn't seem impressed with his idea, however.

 

"I can still just say the words into the megaphone, and we play the song we normally do acoustically."

 

Ben wandered over to look again at the poster of the unkind tweets superimposed over Patty's black hair and darkened eyes.

 

"What do you think that woman was talking about?" He asked uneasily as Patty set the megaphone down on the floor next to one of the chairs with the guitars.

 

Patty shrugged. "I'm trying not to think about it," he admitted, crossing to stand beside Ben. "There's no way it's actually 2024, right?"

 

Ben didn't even know how to answer. "The fact that I can't definitely and immediately say no, that's insane, scares me more than anything else right now, I think," he replied quietly.

 

A laptop screen looping what looked like a feed from a social media website caught Patty's attention. He went over to it, watching the posts and comments underneath scroll through in an unending line of negativity.

 

"This is...what the fuck is this?" Patty demanded.

 

Ben went to look. "It's...the end of humanity, I think," he replied slowly. "It's...this is what she meant, isn't it?"

 

Patty was starting to look ill. "They're telling each other they'd be better off dead," he whispered. "No, they're actively telling each other they should kill themselves. This isn't...This is like cyber bullying to a whole new level."

 

Patty stared at the screen for a few long minutes until Ben finally slammed the top of the laptop down, blocking the words from sight.

 

"And there is no point to filling your mind with that garbage," Ben replied urgently. 

 

Patty had a tendency to take things to heart, and a sometimes even more problematic tendency to think it was up to him to solve every problem that he encountered. 

 

Ben was beginning to think this world might have passed beyond saving, and the only thing he might be able to do right now was stop Patty from becoming the Martyr for a world that was already lost. Because if he left Patty to his own devices, he damn well would head straight in that direction.

 

Ben wasn't an idiot. But he knew when Patty was poised to turn into one.

 

Patty just gave him a slightly grumpy glare to inform Ben he knew perfectly well what he was thinking and he resented it.

 

Ben was gearing up for what would probably have been an inevitable argument when the dark haired woman from before popped her head into the room. 

 

"People are starting to line up!" she exclaimed, her overly perky tone grating at Ben's nerves. Patty didn't look particularly impressed either, but he was always more polite than Ben.

 

"We're going to start letting them in in five. I'll introduce your presentation in ten, and then you'll have the floor!" she chirped, and was gone again.

 

"I dislike her," Ben decided.

 

Patty just shrugged. "You don't know her."

 

"She's talking about the end of the world like it's something exciting," Ben muttered. "I don't like it."

 

Patty sighed wearily. "I don't either, but I don't see any other choice than to either do this, or run away. And if we leave, where would we go?"

 

Ben hated it, but he couldn't come up with a better answer. 

 

"Fine. But if things seem like they're going downhill, and the crowd is going to eat us or something, we're leaving."

 

Patty just rolled his eyes. "Fine, Ben. If the crowd tries to eat us we can leave."

 

"You act like that would be the weirdest thing that happened today," Ben muttered under his breath as he went to one of the guitars to make sure it was tuned properly. "You're going to talk, right? Because I don't think I can manage a meet and greet Q and A right now with a straight face."

 

"I'll talk," Patty confirmed. "I mean, I'll just stick with what I've been saying in interviews and on stage, right? Where the Wounded World came from? What we believe needs to change?"

 

"Yeah, because that seems to have made a difference in the future," Ben replied doubtfully, his gaze shifting to the currently closed laptop. "Just...try not to make them mad in case they turn into zombies or something."

 

Patty almost managed a laugh at that. "Okay, Ben. I'll try not to agitate any zombies."

 

Any response Ben could have made was lost as the first of the crowd started entering. Like the music video, most of them had on their own headphones, and were glued to their electronic devices. Their interest in the world around them was compromised by their attention to the world inside their phone screens. 

 

"Look..." Patty whispered, suddenly appearing beside Ben and almost making him jump. "Isn't that the kid from the video for The Stigma?"

 

Ben glanced to the side. Sure enough, the boy from their second release off The Great Depression was currently standing in the room, his attention torn between his phone and the poster on the wall.

 

"That's...that's different. That has to mean something, right?" Patty whispered.

 

Ben wished he knew.


	4. Chapter 4

Patty was trying to figure out a way to approach the boy from the Stigma video. He was the one person who was completely out of place. Everyone else was, to his recollection, exactly the same. 

 

However, the boy who would be punched by the drill sergeant in the Boys Don't Cry video had currently taken the place of the teenage boy who had originally been in the video for The Wounded World.

 

He was currently taking a photo of the poster on the wall while the man next to him, who Patty assumed was probably his father, made some kind of remark to the boy in a tone too low to hear. His expression was not happy. Neither was the boy's.

 

Any attempt Patty would have made was circumvented by the short amount of time left before the woman from before was back in the room, introducing Patty and Ben and handing over a microphone. Patty tried to mask his frustration and put on a pleasant expression as he took the mic.

 

Ben hung back a bit and to the side, content to let Patty take the lead in this not-so-wonderland they had apparently been dropped into. Patty was used to being the front person, and while Patty might deny he had any kind of banter, he could command a crowd with little apparent effort.

 

Ben knew internally it wasn't nearly as easy for Patty as he made it appear, being as introverted as he truly was, but no one else could probably tell.

 

Patty launched into a speech that was similar in theme to the ones he would speak before they would play The Wounded World back in the real world. Explaining how everyone needed to make a difference, how taking care of themselves was equally as important as taking care of others, how listening was important, and how Patty's own experiences brought him to those realizations.

 

It wasn't anything Ben hadn't heard before, but he was impressed how every time Patty had a opportunity, he could get up with a moments notice and speak so eloquently about such delicate topics. Ben knew most of that came from the fact that those topics were the ones that mattered the most to Patty, and that even now, the struggles that many of their fans faced were struggles that Patty himself was still very familiar with.

 

Sometimes it scared Ben how familiar.

 

Listening to him, it was easy to think Patty had overcome so much. And he truly had. But that didn't mean there wasn't a whole lot of insecurity and hidden emotions lurking below the surface.

 

Sometimes Ben found himself waiting for the next disaster, and then hating himself for doubting himself and his band mates. It was a precarious game to play.

 

Right now, however, Patty was in his element, and the crowd was enamored. Ben didn't blame them. Patty was a force of nature when he wanted to be. Ben kept watching their enigma, the teen from the wrong video. The boy was clearly watching Patty, and he seemed content enough to listen and film Patty's speech on his phone, but Ben wasn't sure if anything Patty said was really getting through to him.

 

Or any of them, really. They seemed to recognize how charismatic Patty was, and were happy enough to listen, but Ben wasn't sure if the words were sinking in. Most of them were taking video or pictures, which Ben suspected they were then streaming or posting immediately online. Ben doubted there was much real thought going on in that room at all. It was depressing, actually.

 

Patty wound down, finishing his speech and announcing that he and Ben would be playing their song next. There was a loud applause, but Ben still felt like it felt more for show than because anyone was moved by the idea. It was a weird feeling. Like his audience wasn't truly engaged, like he and Patty were just pawns in these people's social media existences, and everyone was more excited to be able to post that they heard half of As It Is play, rather than to actually hear As It Is play.

 

Nevertheless, Ben dutifully sat down beside Patty, quickly checked his guitar, and the two of them played through the song. 

 

Ben wished he could have said that the power of music moved the crowd and everyone came to a magical epiphany, realized the error of their ways, and the world was healed, then and there.

 

Ben also wished he could say the crowd at the very least got the point of the song and maybe some sort of glimmer of hope existed.

 

What actually happened was the majority of the crowd wandered out almost immediately after the song, losing interest as soon as there wasn't a constant interaction to hold their attention.

 

What happened right after that was they lost sight of the boy from The Stigma.

 

And then Patty panicked.

 

And then Ben had to spend the next few minutes talking Patty down from a legitimate panic attack. 

 

He probably should have seen it coming. Patty could put on a brave face, but he was under a lot of pressure. They both were. Neither of them were entirely convinced they weren't dreaming, and both were terrified to really stop to think about why they didn't seem to be able to wake up.

 

The world appeared to have jumped forward a few years, and gotten exponentially worse. They were apparently now viewed as some sort of prophets of doom, and yet even that didn't seem to be enough to hold people's attention for more than a few minutes at a time.

 

Actually, Patty might have had the right idea. Ben had to focus all his attention on Patty and ignore everything else. Patty's uneven breathing was enough to put Ben on edge, but he somehow managed the monumental task of gently urging Patty to follow his own breathing patterns and then forcing his own lungs to take in air in a regular, deep, unhurried manner.  

 

It took a while, but the two of them finally had enough control to exit the now empty room in favor of retreating to the privacy of Patty's own room to figure out what to do next. Ben silently thanked whatever Powers might be out there that their rooms were still there, same as they left them.

 

He then also silently yelled at whatever Powers might be out there for putting them in this position.

 

Patty was slightly calmer once they were back in his room and he could have a chance to think.

 

"We need to find him. He's probably still in the building, right?" Patty asked anxiously.

 

Ben had to reach out and grab his arm before Patty actually went right out the door again.

 

"Patty, we don't know if he's still here. We don't even know if he's the reason we're here." Ben tried to talk sense into Patty. It probably would have been easier if anything actually made sense in the first place. "Where would we even start?"

 

Patty shrugged. He was practically bouncing up and down with pent up energy and anxiety. "I don't know! Knock on every door we come to. Ask everyone we meet. He has to be the reason we're here, and we lost him!"

 

Any further attempt to talk sense into Patty was derailed by a sudden commotion from the corridor outside Patty's room. Patty glanced at the closed door in alarm. Ben felt a sudden chill. He tried to shake it off as nerves, but he had a terrible feeling. Whatever was going on outside did not sound good, and the way their day had been going, whatever had happened would probably be a disaster that ended up involving them.

 

"Let's stay in the room," Ben pleaded, knowing full well Patty would just ignore him.

 

Patty ignored him.

 

Patty was out the door almost before Ben started speaking. There was a crowd of people gathered near a room at the opposite end of the hall, all grim faced and talking quietly. Most of them were wearing similar looking uniforms. Patty assumed they worked in the building. There were a few random people also milling around, looking vaguely interested and not at all surprised.

 

The man from the video, the one Patty assumed was the father of their teen from the Boys Don't Cry video, was standing outside the door, his head in his hands, and Patty was fairly certain by the way his shoulders were shaking he was sobbing.

 

"No."

 

Patty shook his head violently, already trying to deny where his mind had immediately gone.

 

Ben was suddenly beside him, and there was a solid weight around his upper body and shoulders.

 

He vaguely realized Ben had wrapped an arm around him and was guiding him back into the room. Ben led him to the bed and sat him on the edge, immediately kneeling in front of him, looking up at him in concern.

 

"Patty? Tell me what you're thinking," Ben ordered, his tone quiet but demanding. He could almost watch as Patty's mind spiraled into his own thoughts, each one progressively darker than the former.

 

"He's dead, isn't he?" Patty finally whispered. 

 

Ben glanced down to find Patty's fists clenched so tightly his fingernails had to be digging into his skin. His knuckles were almost pure white.

 

"Hey, don't do that," Ben reprimanded gently, tapping on the top of Patty's hand. Patty made an unhappy face, but forced himself to loosen his grip.

 

"You don't know that," Ben continued, though he was fairly certain Patty's assumption was probably right. He knew he was jumping to conclusions, the same as Patty, but considering how things were going in the insane universe they seemed to be trapped in, it made a sick sort of sense. Ben was saddened by what had happened, if it was true, but he was much more worried about how Patty was going to react. 


	5. Chapter 5

Patty wanted to go back out into the hallway and verify one way or another whether what they had suspected had happened had indeed happened.

 

Ben wanted to lock the door and hide under the blankets like a child with Patty until it was morning and maybe they would wake up back in their hotel room in the real world.

 

Patty vetoed the blanket idea. Ben refused to let Patty leave the room. That left them with little to do but argue for the next ten minutes until there was a soft knock on their door.

 

Ben ordered Patty to sit on the bed while he himself answered the door.

 

Patty ignored him.

 

So the two of them stood side by side while a somber looking man in a uniform informed them that there had been an 'incident', and they were requesting that everyone stay inside their rooms until the police cleared the scene. He also requested that out of respect for the family involved, they refrain from taking any photos or posting any they may already have to social media.

 

Patty was looking decidedly ill by the time the man vacated their doorway and Ben locked the two of them in the room.

 

"Are you sure you don't want to sit down?" Ben asked.

 

Patty shook his head, pacing back and forth in front of the door.

 

Ben decided even if Patty didn't, he did, and flopped down on top of Patty's bed, staring up at the ceiling. 

 

"Do you think we did something?"

 

Ben sat upright to stare at Patty. He probably should have expected the question, but he had hoped Patty would have at least been thinking clearly enough to realize that whatever had happened to the boy, their three minutes of singing and Patty's speech were probably the least likely cause of his tragic choice.

 

Apparently not.

 

"Do you really think that's likely?"

 

Patty shrugged. "No, I guess not. But what if we failed to do something? What if we were his last hope, and when we failed whatever we were supposed to do, he..." Patty trailed off.

 

Ben sighed. Patty had good intentions, but he could sometimes get caught up in the idea that he was somehow responsible for far more of the decisions of the people around him than he truly was.

 

"Patty. Even if by some miracle we could have done something, and we failed at that, are we still responsible for what happened?"

 

It took Patty longer to come up with an answer to that question that Ben would have preferred, but at least the answer showed Patty was readjusting his thinking to something more realistic.

 

"No. There must have been a lot already going on in his life, and we can do the best we can, but we can't dictate someone else's choices. Plus, we didn't really know him. As much as I hate to admit it, we probably weren't in the best position to help him."

 

Ben nodded wearily. "People...get this idea that because we're sort of famous, and they can watch us online or listen to interviews or whatever that we're...that they understand us. And it gives them a kind of connection. But they don't know us. Not really. And we don't know them at all. We're not miracle workers. If that kid was that close to the edge...I don't know that we could have stopped him."

 

"I don't believe that. I can't," Patty replied quietly. "Maybe it wouldn't have made a difference. But I can't believe that one person who steps up and just offers...anything, really. To listen. To help. To be there until that urge passes. It can make a difference. I know it can."

 

"I think you're missing the point," Ben replied gently. "I'm not saying to give up hope. I'm saying you can't put it on yourself to always be the one who bears that responsibility. You'll make yourself crazy if you put everyone else's emotional stability on yourself. The fact that you didn't have the opportunity to intervene is not your fault. If you had and had still failed, that wouldn't have been your fault. None of this is your fault, and I'm not sure you're hearing that right now."

 

"No, I am," Patty admitted wearily, finally stopping his relentless pacing to sit on the edge of the bed. "I know all this. Intellectually, I do. I just...it still feels awful."

 

"I know," Ben replied. "It does to me too."

 

Patty lay backwards, staring blankly. "I just...I keep hoping maybe if this day is just over, tomorrow we'll wake up and everything will have gone back to normal. I mean, it has to be a dream. So if I can just finish it, I'll wake up and everything will be fine and we'll go to the next venue and play our songs and they'll hopefully make kids feel better, and I can just forget about all this."

 

"So go to sleep," Ben offered. "I mean, time is all weird here anyway. I woke up and got you and it was almost evening. Maybe if we can just sleep we'll forgot this weird dream completely."

 

Please, please let it be a dream.

 

"You don't have to stay," Patty offered quietly. "I know I've got you freaked out, but I'm fine. You can go back to your room."

 

Ben outright laughed at him. 

 

"Yeah, Patty. We're in some alternate reality. I'm going to go next door and hope you're there in the morning. I'm not leaving this room at all unless you're with me. I can wear the same clothes two days in a row."

 

"I just mean you don't have to worry about me," Patty grumbled. "I'm fine."

 

"You're not, but that's okay," Ben replied flatly. "Because I sure as fuck am not either. This is insane, and what just happened is awful, and I'm having trouble trying to remind myself it's all a dream, so I'm going to stay here, and if you're so 'fine', you can stay here and keep me company because I'm not!"

 

"Hey, okay, I'm sorry," Patty rushed to assure his band mate. "You're right. None of this is okay, and you have every right to be freaked out over it, and maybe if we just go to sleep it will all go away. I vote we do that."

 

Ben chuckled unhappily. "Hide under the covers after all?"

 

Patty gave him a weary smile. It was small, but it was there. 

 

"Hide under the covers. Metaphorically speaking. And physically."

 

They both propped themselves up on the pillows, half upright and stared at the ceiling.

 

The silence didn't last very long before Patty broke it.

 

"What happens if we wake up tomorrow and we're still here?"

 

Ben sighed, and turned to face him. "I...I don't know. This has to be a dream. I'm not prepared to pretend it's anything else."

 

Patty nodded. "Even if it is just a dream...I'm glad you're here," he admitted. "At least I was smart enough to dream you along with me."

 

"Same," Ben replied. "Because I'm pretty sure this is my dream, but...same."

 

It took quite a while, but Ben finally did drift off. It seemed like mere moments until he was jolted awake by a minor earthquake.

 

Which happened to Patty's hand, insistently shaking him with enough force to make Ben retaliate by reaching out and whacking Patty on the arm. 

 

"Would you stop it?"

 

Patty didn't respond, and didn't stop shaking him either. Ben suddenly clued in to the fact that Patty was quietly muttering one word over and over under his breath.

 

"No. No. No.No.No.No.No."

 

He was also sitting upright, and staring at the doorway.

 

Ben swore under his breath. What insanity was coming from the door to hell now?

 

Against his better judgment, Ben dragged himself into a sitting position and looked toward the doorway.

 

If he had been a little closer to the edge of the bed, he might have fallen out of it. Because the boy from last night, the one who was supposedly dead, was currently staring at the two of them, with a very concerned look on his face.

 

And wearing the collared black shirt and black trousers from video for The Stigma. 


	6. Act Two

**Act II**

 

**The Stigma (Boys Don't Cry)**

 

 

Ben's head swiveled back and forth between the supposedly dead boy, and Patty, who was looking more freaked out with each passing moment.

 

It was starting to look to Ben more and more like he was going to have to take over and figure out what to do about this new insane turn of events.

 

Unfortunately, he had no idea what the hell he should do.

 

The boy peeking in through their doorway saved the two of them from having to take the initiative by being the first to speak.

 

"So...You guys are going to be late if you hang around in here any longer," the boy warned. "And you know how the Headmaster gets. Also..." he trailed off, looking even more uncomfortable.

 

"I mean...I don't care one way or another, really I don't, but you need to be more careful. If Headmaster caught you like this..." 

 

Ben noticed the boy's cheeks were definitely turning red.

 

"What? Sleeping in the same bed?" Ben demanded. Patty, suddenly having a cause to latch onto, actually seemed to shake himself out of his stupor and was starting to look irritated.

 

"Not that we were doing anything, but there's nothing wrong with it if we were. And if we weren't, which we weren't, there's also nothing wrong with two guys sleeping in the same bed. If it were girls, no one would think a thing about it." Patty seemed ready to launch into a speech, even if he wasn't exactly sure what he was arguing about. 

 

Even considering their current circumstances, Ben had to smile. It would figure Patty would come to life if he had something to fight for, even if he wasn't sure exactly what it was he was fighting against yet.

 

The boy just rolled his eyes. "You're also going to get in trouble again if you keep talking like that," he warned. "I mean, I don't disagree. You're not going to change his mind though. All you do is get yourselves in trouble. I don't think I could handle it if I had to deal with half the stuff you've had to deal with. Why do you insist on antagonizing him?"

 

"The Headmaster?" Patty asked.

 

The boy nodded. "Yeah. You've both so many demerits I don't know what he's going to do if you mouth off again. Please just take it easy today?" he pleaded. "I can't watch him scream at you again. It stresses me out. And then he's in a bad mood the rest of the day."

 

"We'll try and behave," Ben promised, cutting off Patty who Ben could tell was about to launch into an argument. Until they understood what was going on, it might actually be a good idea to lay low and get an idea what kind of reality they'd fallen into this time.

 

"Thanks," the boy said, sounding relieved. "My anxiety has been kind of....not great lately. If I have a panic attack in class, he's going to kill me. I just want one day where no one gets screamed at."

 

"We'll try to be good," Ben promised. "We should probably get ready before...." Ben trailed off, suddenly realizing he wasn't sure what he was supposed to be getting ready for.

 

The boy helped him out. He pulled his phone from his pocket and glanced at it. "Fifteen minutes to class. Try not to be late?" he added dryly, and pulled their door shut, leaving Ben and Patty in peace.

 

Ben shook his head. "So...are we thinking we're in the video for The Stigma?" he asked, suddenly feeling exhausted. If The Wounded World video universe hadn't exactly been the most pleasant experience, he suspected this world would be a lot worse. 

 

"We should have done a happy video with unicorns and candy," Ben griped under his breath.

 

Patty snorted. "Yeah, that is not us. Look on the bright side. We could be being chased by robots."

 

"You're awfully calm all the sudden," Ben replied, tilting his head to stare at Patty.

 

Patty shrugged. "I mean, yeah, waking up here? Not good. But it's the same kid, Ben! And he's alive! That has to be the point, right? We have to save him? And if we are in the world for the Stigma, then the Headmaster he's talking about is our drill sergeant. And we have to help him and maybe everyone like we did in the video."

 

Ben groaned. "Patty, this is insane. Blocking the doors and shouting into a megaphone isn't going to work in the real world. It works in a three minute video to make a point, but it isn't going to save this kid. We can't even do what we did in the video because I wouldn't really want to leave him on the other side of the door with the Headmaster or whatever he is when we've just totally pissed him off."

 

"I wonder why he's called the Headmaster," Patty replied. "He's just a teacher, right? Isn't the Headmaster usually like the Principal? The top of the food chain?"

 

Ben stared at him. "This is what you're choosing to focus on?"

 

Patty shrugged. "You're right. It's probably just a metaphor. Since he's the big bad in the world. The one we have to vanquish."

 

Ben stared some more. It seemed like an appropriate response. "Vanquish?"

 

"You know. Win over. Defeat. Show to be an asshole. Vanquish. Whatever. We just have to show that there's a better way than what society says the rules are."

 

"I have a better idea. How about if we put on our uniforms, skip the makeup today, and just figure out what the hell is going on?" Ben pleaded. "Before you run out all full black eyeliner and lipstick and get kicked in the head?"

 

Patty looked ready to argue, but Ben wasn't done. "Reconnaissance first. Then tackle the problem. If it looks like we need to make a huge statement, we can do it later. Right now, that kid was talking like he knew us, but we know nothing. We need to figure out what's going on first."

 

Patty finally sighed and nodded, but he didn't look happy. Ben just had to hope he wouldn't jump into something without thinking it through first.

 

Ben wasn't feeling particularly hopeful. 


	7. Chapter 7

If there had been a chance for the boys to glance around the room before they had been abruptly awoken by the boy in the doorway, they would have known they weren't in the same place they had fallen asleep in.

 

Again.

 

Patty craned his neck back, staring at a dark wood ceiling while Ben's head swiveled from side to side, checking out the paneling and heavy, dark furniture. There was a large dresser against a wall and a closet to the left where Ben thought their clothes would be. 

 

There were also two beds in the room. Patty was going to assume in this reality, they were meant to be room mates.

 

Patty pulled himself off the bed and headed for the dresser. Sure enough, the uniforms from The Stigma music video were folded neatly inside. Patty quickly dressed and threw another set of clothes at Ben who silently slipped his own uniform on.

 

Recognizing they didn't have a lot of time, and neither of them had a clue where they were going, Patty and Ben didn't waste any time getting ready and headed out the door in search of the classroom from the video. It took five or six minutes of wandering around the building, but they finally found it, looking exactly as it had during filming. Patty and Ben slipped into the empty seats, Patty in the third row and Ben in the first. The boy from the video smiled wearily at them from the seat directly behind Ben.

 

There wasn't enough time to speak to the boy before a pair of heavy footsteps could be heard heading in their direction. Everyone turned towards the back of the room to see who was coming.

 

Ben winced and cursed himself silently as the Headmaster stormed in, shouting at them all to face the front of the room. He knew it had been coming, and had still been caught unaware. The boy behind him had flinched violently at the angry tone.

 

Patty had remembered what was coming, and he wasn't surprised, but he was angry. There was no reason for the man to have that attitude. He suspected he was going to have a very hard time keeping his mouth shut. Bullies had a tendency to bring out the Protector in him almost unconsciously.

 

The Headmaster launched into an impassioned speech that Ben tuned out almost immediately. There was a lot of rhetoric about how men were expected to act, and how feelings were weak and feminine, and how real men settled things with actions rather than words. Ben disregarded everything the man was saying almost immediately and zoned out in favor of holding an inner conversation with himself about how insane this all was and how they were going to get back where they belonged. He really didn't want to admit it to himself, but he was starting to believe they might actually not be asleep.

 

Patty, on the other hand, listened to every word. And started keeping notes of everything he disagreed with, was offended by, and was outright horrified by. 

 

There were a lot of notes.

 

Patty wasn't the best at keeping his emotions to himself when he was really angry. Upset or overwhelmed, he could usually hold it in better. Anger had a tendency to show right through. Which was probably why the Headmaster decided when he needed a volunteer for his next object lesson, Patty would be the perfect choice.

 

Ben tuned back into the discussion happening around him just in time to see Patty head to the front of the room with a royally pissed off look on his face. Ben felt his heartbeat speed up. Angry Patty had a much shorter fuse and would likely launch into an argument without much forethought. 

 

It turned out Ben had tuned in just in time to witness a variation of the tie scene from the video. Ben smothered a groan. Patty was awful at tying ties. Hand him a guitar, his fingers could produce musical artwork. Hand him a tie, and he was suddenly all thumbs. Ben usually ended up tying Patty's ties for him before photo shoots because it was just easier and quicker. 

 

Now, it appeared Patty's skills were about to be put to the test. The Headmaster was currently spouting some sort of ridiculous claims that being able to tie a tie was a fundamental ability of a real man and a suit and tie were essential to proving one's superiority over others. Patty looked livid. Ben was alarmed, both by the shade of red Patty's face currently was, and by the inevitable disaster that was about to occur.

 

Patty handled it better than Ben probably could have. Ben was angry for Patty's sake, but Patty remained quiet and let the Headmaster demonstrate how to tie a tie by wrapping it around his neck. Ben watched with dread as the veins in Patty's neck literally throbbed as he struggled to hold in his emotions.

 

Patty's hands were shaking as he struggled to repeat the knot. The Headmaster thought it was from nerves and proceeded to use that opportunity to mock Patty. Ben knew the shaking was from anger, not fear. 

 

After three failed attempts to make a knot that would satisfy the Headmaster, the man suddenly shoved Patty forward, holding him against a display of pictures of the 'ideal' male human body by the back of his collar. The sudden movement shocked Ben, who then immediately realized it matched the music video again, the close up of Patty's face held down by a hand. 

 

Patty had his eyes squeezed shut, and Ben honestly wasn't sure if it was because he was still trying to control his anger, or if he was afraid. 

 

"You see this?" the Headmaster asked with disdain, "This is the perfect example of someone who will never get anywhere in life. If you can't even tie a tie, you're destined for failure. You couldn't be any less of a man if you tried. You're too thin, too weak, and too girly. Take a good look, everyone. Patrick thinks words are the best way to solve problems. I don't think words are going to do him any good when he can't even defend himself against me, do you?"

 

Patty tried to wrench himself out of the Headmaster's grasp, but didn't have the leverage. He still said nothing.

 

Ben couldn't take it anymore. Fuck keeping quiet.

 

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Ben demanded, standing up and nearly knocking his chair over in the process. "You have him pinned down so he can't move, and you're in a position of power because you're the authority in the room, though I'm fucked if I understand how you managed to convince anyone you're qualified to teach so much as a monkey, and you think you're teaching anything of value by tearing him down? You're a fucking moron."

 

The Headmaster let go of Patty to glare at Ben.

 

"Well. If the Princess isn't defending her boyfriend. Isn't that sweet."

 

Ben blinked. There were so many problematic things with that statement he didn't even know where to start. He never got the chance to respond because the Headmaster spoke first.

 

"You think you're so tough, you can challenge my authority? Well. Let's see just how strong you are, princess. Everyone. Outside. Now."

 

Ben didn't regret standing up for Patty, but as the Headmaster strode out the door, and the others filed behind, the look of dread on the face of the boy Patty was convinced they were supposed to be saving had him wondering if he might have just made things much worse.


	8. Chapter 8

Ben wasn't remotely surprised when the Headmaster led them all outside and had them gather around him as he gathered some firewood and grabbed an axe. He split several logs, his muscles straining as he severed the pieces with a violent fervor.

 

He also wasn't surprised when he and Patty were singled out and ordered to follow his example.

 

Ben knew the Headmaster firmly believed that neither of them would be able to do it. If he was smart about it, he should probably just let the Headmaster go on believing it. Letting him belittle them and mock their lack of strength would likely diffuse the situation. The Headmaster could feel like he had control again had put them in their place, and things wouldn't escalate.

 

However, Ben was way beyond doing the smart thing. The Headmaster's propensity for manhandling the students had him fuming.

 

No one had the right to put their hands on Patty. No one had the right to put their hands on anyone without their consent. 

 

So Ben responded by taking the axe, and channeling all of his pent up rage at the situation into the piece of wood in front of him. Years of thrashing around the stage and hauling their own equipment had made him stronger than he looked. The wood split neatly down the middle, shearing into two sides. Ben dropped the axe and stared at the man.

 

If there had been any doubts in his mind that Patty could follow suit, he might have reconsidered his decision to stand up to the Headmaster and prove what he was capable of. However, Ben knew Patty was also a lot stronger than his slight frame might make people think. He also knew Patty was itching to take a stand. He had only been holding back this long because Ben had urged him to. 

 

It might have been a mistake, and Ben did regret that their actions would probably just make the Headmaster angrier, because he didn't want that emotion directed at any of the other students, particularly the boy who woke them up, but enough was enough. The man was a bully, and he needed to be stopped.

 

Patty apparently agreed, because he split the wood without so much as a comment, and dropped the axe to the ground.

 

The Headmaster's face was an alarming shade of red, but there was nothing he could do. The boys had done what he had asked, and done it flawlessly. He made several false starts trying to figure out what to say, before finally giving up and dismissing them for lunch. He stomped away, off to devise more ways to try to humiliate them, Ben was sure.

 

Patty's complexion was whiter than normal, and Ben had to pause to make sure he was all right. Patty nodded, tipping his head to rest against Ben's and closing his eyes momentarily. Ben leaned into the touch, something they had done a million times before without so much as a thought, that Ben knew in this world would invariably mean something negative to someone around them.

 

He really didn't give a fuck.

 

A soft sound beside them had him peering through his eyelids for the source. He hadn't even noticed he had closed his own eyes.

 

The boy from the video for The Stigma motioned towards the building.

 

"Lunch?"

 

Ben nodded with a sigh, squeezing Patty's arm when he straightened up again.

 

"Yeah. Come on."

 

The three of them walked to the cafeteria, quickly making their way through the line and settling down at a table. Ben silently lifted the piece of chicken out of Patty's sandwich, leaving him with bread, lettuce, tomato, and onion. Patty sent him a sideways smile, and hesitantly poked at the bread slices, before taking a bite. He was fairly certain trying to explain to the staff he was vegan would just result in more problems.

 

Meat was manly, after all.

 

Patty hated this world. Patty also needed to get out of this world quickly, he couldn't survive indefinitely on pieces of lettuce and tomato. And sooner or later, someone would catch on.

 

The other boy ignored their food dissections. He seemed to know them. Maybe he had seen them do this before. 

 

Thinking about how that could be possible made Ben's head hurt.

 

"You really can't make it a day, can you?" the boy asked. He tone was wryly amused. "One day, Ben. All I asked for was one day."

 

"I was fine, you know," Patty added quietly to Ben. "You didn't have to jump in trying to defend me. I would have been all right."

 

"I know, Patty," Ben replied, and it was true. It wasn't that he doubted Patty's ability to cope. He just was really, really tired of authority figures who took advantage of people. 

 

Some days, he was tired of humanity in general.

 

"And you insist on calling him that. You know if Headmaster hears, you're going to get more demerits," the boy added. "Is Patrick really so bad?"

 

Patty blinked. "What?"

 

The boy ducked his head, looking like he had been scolded. "I just mean...don't you get tired of being told how Patty is a girl's name? I mean, it's ridiculous, but every time you break the rules you just get in more trouble. He could have really hurt you today, you know."

 

Patty had what he could only describe as a flashback to the boy's bruised face in the video.

 

The boy continued. "I mean, sure, I would prefer Thomas, but apparently Tom is more masculine."

 

That was the stupidest thing Ben had heard yet. On the plus side, he had just learned the boy's name.

 

"We could call you Thomas, you know."

 

Thomas shook his head. "No, thank you. I just want to serve my time here quietly, convince my family I'm fine, because I am fine, and go home. Home can't be worse than here. I'll just...learn to adjust."

 

Patty had used that particular tone of "I'm fine," one too many times, and Ben had heard Patty use that tone only to find him sobbing later in the vocal booth one too many times to believe one word Thomas was saying.

 

Patty knew they had to tread carefully.

 

"Tom...Thomas," Patty started quietly, "You know none of this is fine."

 

Thomas just closed his eyes, his hands tightening into fists. 

 

"It has to be. I can't keep doing this. Having panic attacks, or crying in my room, or feeling so..." he trailed off, then shook his head. "There's no reason for it. It's so stupid."

 

Patty gently reached out and put his hand over Thomas' for a brief second. "There doesn't have to be a reason," he pointed out quietly. "Or maybe there's too many reasons. It doesn't have to be one big thing. Emotions aren't inherently wrong. And this is a really stressful environment. A toxic one."

 

Thomas opened his eyes, raising an eyebrow as he glanced at Patty. "This is the place where we learn to deal with his stuff and shut it down though."

 

"This? This is not dealing," Patty replied with forced patience. "This is trying to ignore a huge part of yourself because society thinks feelings are bad for men to have. Everyone has emotions. They're healthy. Even the negative ones. If we listen to them and deal with whatever is causing them. Burying them is just going to hurt you."

 

"You think that, but literally everyone else I know disagrees," Thomas replied. "Who's supposed to know what's right? I don't like feeling like this. I would rather not feel anything than feel this."

 

Ben could sense when the warning bells were going off. So could Patty. 

 

Patty had gone to therapy. They had both read the articles and talked to professionals when they decided to come out with an album with such heavy themes. They also knew what happened to Thomas in the universe from The Wounded World.

 

Patty knew intellectually that asking someone if they were thinking about suicide would not give them the idea.

 

Ben also knew that, and had actually had to ask the question before.

 

That hadn't been a particularly pleasant conversation for either of them, but Ben had considered it completely necessary at the time.

 

Somehow, all that knowledge really didn't make the conversation they both knew they needed to have with Thomas any easier to start.


	9. Chapter 9

It was Patty who asked the question, and if Ben was honest with himself, he was kind of selfishly glad Patty was taking the lead.

 

It made him feel a little guilty, but Patty had always been better at expressing his feelings. Ben wasn't entirely sure he wouldn't have messed it up.

 

"When you say you would rather not feel anything..." Patty trailed off, pausing for a moment as he tried to figure out how to phrase the question, "...how do you mean that? Have you ever thought being dead would be better than feeling how you are?"

 

Thomas glanced around them in alarm. No one else was close enough to hear their conversation, but Thomas lowered his voice even more.

 

"Patrick! You can't just ask something like that!"

 

Patty shrugged, keeping his expression carefully casual. "Why not? If something is causing that much pain, isn't it better to talk about it than just ignore it? Ignoring it won't make it go away."

 

Thomas drummed his fingers nervously on the table. "Ignoring it has worked out pretty well so far. Giving in and crying about it just got me sent here. And this is infinitely worse than being home and feeling...whatever I was feeling."

 

"You got sent here for crying?" Ben tried to keep the same noncommittal tone Patty had, but he wasn't sure he managed it. 

 

Thomas nodded. "Well. I mean, I wasn't exactly doing well in...anything really. School. Sports. Life." He chuckled unhappily. "I just...couldn't find the energy or the purpose. Everything seemed overwhelming. Getting out of bed seemed overwhelming. My parents told me if my grades didn't improve they would send me somewhere where they would sort me out. I...kind of had a breakdown one night, I don't even know over what, couldn't stop crying, and they...saw."

 

The words had come tumbling out so easily, Patty could tell just how badly Thomas had been waiting for someone to be willing to hear them.

 

"And instead of figuring, 'Hey, maybe you could use some help,' your parents sent you to this militaristic hellhole," Ben muttered. "Great parenting there."

 

"They just wanted me to succeed," Thomas protested uncomfortably.

 

"Maybe," Patty allowed, shooting Ben a cautious look. "But it sounds like they have some archaic ideas about how people should deal with things. In my experience, talking things out can make even really heavy things seem a little lighter, if you have someone you can share them with who will support you."

 

"You don't get it," Thomas replied, "You guys are always strong. I mean, you're constantly getting into massive trouble because you keep acting out, but you're always strong. You stand up for yourselves. I...can't do that."

 

Patty's tiny smile was definitely on the wry side. "Tom, I can guarantee that what you think you see isn't the real me. Not always. Not even half the time, probably. The reality is I am very introverted and have a lot more self doubt than you could possibly imagine. We all put up facades to protect ourselves to a certain extent."

 

"Maybe, but I bet you've never had a meltdown in your room that was so big your parents sent you away," Thomas grumbled.

 

Patty almost had to laugh, although the situation wasn't remotely funny. Ben raised his eyebrows at Patty over Thomas' head.

 

Their band apparently hadn't translated into this particular universe, but Patty could still explain while omitting anything that would make him sound to Thomas like he had lost touch with reality.

 

"Actually, I have gotten so overwhelmed before that I broke down and couldn't stop crying," Patty admitted. "I was completely overwhelmed with all the responsibilities I had and couldn't cope with it all any more. And instead of going to my friends or family like I should have, I kept it all inside and tried to deal with it myself until I couldn't anymore. The difference between you and me though, it sounds like, is you didn't have the support you needed, and for that, I'm sorry. You deserved better. I...had that support, I just didn't reach out. My family was supportive. My friends were." Patty glanced toward Ben, speaking the next words more to him than Thomas. "I could have gone to them and they would have been there for me. I know they would have. That was all on me. And I regret not giving them that chance sooner."

 

Ben just smiled across at him. It was a conversation they'd had before. Ben had long ago forgiven Patty for something that as far as he was concerned, Patty hadn't needed forgiveness for in the first place. Seeking help wasn't as easy or simple at it should be. Patty had fallen into a situation that thousands of people were trapped in every day. That was part of the reason their band was so vocal about these issues. Neither of them wanted their friends, family, or fans to suffer needlessly. If talking about it helped even one person, then it was worth it.

 

Thomas wasn't looking any more comfortable with the way the conversation was going, but at least he was still talking.

 

"It's stupid, though. I mean, my life is not that bad. I don't have anything to be down about."

 

"It's not about that," Patty replied. "I mean, things were going amazing for me. Overwhelming maybe, but not in a bad way."

 

Warped Tour had been an amazing experience, but it was a lifestyle change he hadn't been prepared for. The lack of privacy, the relentless schedule, the pressure of meeting so many people, and so many fans, and having to be always 'on' for them with a happy face had been exhausting. They had done so much touring that year, and Patty had been homesick, and looking back, he could never quite figure out why he hadn't just told all of this to Ben, but at the time, it had seemed like an impossibility. He hadn't wanted to appear ungrateful for the opportunities he had been given. It had taken some soul searching and professional intervention to readjust some of his thinking to something healthier.

 

"Sometimes things can be good and bad at the same time. Sometimes they can be good but too much. Sometimes it isn't even specifically something tangible. It's just the chemicals in your brain, or your physical or emotional makeup, or a thousand other reasons that can make us feel awful for no reason. The brain isn't any different than any other body part. Things can go wrong with it."

 

"Maybe." Thomas' tone was flat. "But what am I supposed to do about it? I can't talk to anyone. I don't even understand it myself."

 

"You can always talk to us," Patty replied. "That's at least a first step. Don't think you have to go through this alone. Ben and I are always willing to listen. No matter how pointless or insignificant you think it is. If it's bothering you, I promise, talking will still be better than trying to bury it."

 

"And at least consider the possibility of talking to someone," Ben added quietly. Patty nodded. "There are people who are trained to deal with this kind of stuff. We can always listen, but we aren't counselors or therapists. We can tell you what helps us, but there are people who are better equipped than us to talk about this." He wasn't entirely sure what was happening in the outside world around them, hell, he wasn't even sure what year they were in, but he was going to hope that there were at least still people out there who would help. Therapists. Psychologists. Psychiatrists. Professionals.

 

Thomas didn't look particularly thrilled with that idea, but he didn't outright refuse. He just shrugged. 

 

Patty figured they had probably dumped as much information on Thomas as they could without completely overwhelming him or making him shut down, but he still needed to verify one important point.

 

"Thomas. I do need to know though. Have you genuinely considered taking your life?"

 

Ben nearly winced. He knew the direction from the professionals was to be direct and clear about the question, but it still sounded jarring. Even to him, even after everything.

 

Thomas did wince. "I..." There was a pause that was a lot longer than Patty would have hoped for, but Thomas did seem to be honestly considering the question. "I don't think so. I mean, I kind of fantasize about getting out of here sometimes, but I don't think...it isn't that I want to die, I just...can't keep doing this."

 

Patty understood that sentiment. "Okay. I appreciate your honesty. Just...If that ever changes, or even if it doesn't, but you want to talk, we're here. Okay?"

 

Thomas nodded, ducking his head down and starting to gather his tray of food. "Yeah. I got it," he replied. He went to stand up. "I should probably go empty this. I need to grab my books for the next class," he added, and hastily headed for the trash bin. 

 

Patty and Ben watched him go. He was clearly retreating, and Ben hoped they hadn't just completely overwhelmed him. He even felt drained, and Patty had done most of the talking.

 

Patty looked worried. "He's..."

 

"Fragile," Ben supplied. "I feel like we're at a point where if we aren't careful, we'll break him. There's a lot of bull shit he's been taught that he needs to reject before he can even consider the idea of getting help. I really don't know what to do, Patty."

 

Patty shook his head. "We need to convince him that getting help isn't weak. We need to convince him that everything everyone else around here is teaching him is toxic and harmful."

 

"I'm concerned," Ben admitted. "If we're continuing in the direction of the video, eventually that teacher is going to hit him. He does not need that. He's got enough to deal with right now without adding physical abuse to the mix."

 

"So we keep the Headmaster focused on us," Patty replied slowly. "Maybe we can actually convince these kids that everything he stands for is terrible. They can't keep watching him do this stuff without eventually coming to the conclusion it's wrong, can they?"

 

Ben thought about it. It wasn't a solution that would be particularly enjoyable for them, but it would keep the other's safe. Ben nodded. "We need to...Patty. We need to follow through with the makeup scene."

 

Patty had almost forgotten about that in his single-minded attention to Thomas.

 

"What? No. That's too far. Ben, he could actually hurt you!"

 

"No. That was one of the worst scenes in the whole video, other than the punch. It was meant to be shocking. It might actually shock these kids out of their stupor," Ben insisted.

 

Patty wasn't hearing it. "Absolutely not. Or, if we do it, it should be me," he suddenly said. "The Headmaster already hates me. Let me do it."

 

That was the most fucking stupid thing yet. Ben folded his arms and glared.

 

"There is no fucking way I'm letting that lunatic hold your head under water, Patrick Walters."

 

Patty rolled his eyes. "But it's okay for him to assault you?"

 

"That at least follows the video," Ben replied, trying to talk sense where there wasn't any to be had. "He's not going to kill me. He likes torturing us too much."

 

"Sure, There's a perfectly adequate reason to do it," Patty muttered.   

 

Ben just sighed. "Patty. We're being led inevitably in a direction. The video is progressing the way it does in real life. Chances are, if we both put on makeup, he's going to choose me anyway, because that's just how it is."

 

"I hate this," Patty replied, but he didn't seem quite as committed to the argument. "I hate this with every fucking atom in my being."

 

"I know," Ben replied quietly. "But it could make a difference. It's going to suck. I am not unaware of this. But it might help us. It might get more people on our side. And if we don't follow through, how are we going to feel if he decides to hurt someone else?"

 

Patty wished he could just accuse Ben of being overly dramatic, but it wasn't outside the realm of possibility. The reality was, they did need to keep the Headmaster's attention on them. 

 

"If he drowns you, I'm going to kill you," Patty warned, finally giving in, although he kind of hated himself for it.

 

Ben just patted him on the head. "I'll come back as the Reaper and haunt you," he promised.

 

"Don't say things like that!"


	10. Chapter 10

Patty and Ben headed back to their room to apply the makeup before they had to be back in class.

 

Patty had been worried the makeup hadn't traveled into this universe with them, but as turned out, the top drawer in the dresser contained the same makeup that they typically used on stage.

 

That managed to confuse Patty even more.

 

"So, does that mean that the us that's been here that everyone knows have done the makeup thing before? Or did the makeup magically appear? Or did we have it but only use it secretly?"

 

Ben groaned as he pulled an eyeliner pencil out of the drawer and peered at it.

 

"I don't know, Patty. I'll be sure to ask alternate universe me if I even run into him."

 

Patty tilted his head to the side, suddenly intrigued.

 

"Do you think-"

 

"No, I do not think that we've traded places with ourselves in another dimension!" Ben replied before Patty could even finish the question. "We did not create the Wounded World through sheer chance of will and swap lives with our doubles. That's it. You are not allowed to read anymore on tour," Ben muttered, beginning the task of applying his makeup.

 

"Because that's any crazier than what's actually happening," Patty grumbled back, glaring at the drawer of makeup before beginning to line his own eyes in black.

 

"Do you think this is waterproof?" Ben asked dryly as he continued lining his eyes in smudged red and black.

 

"Jokes? We're making jokes about this now?" Patty demanded, scowling at him.

 

Ben just shrugged. 

 

"Are you sure about this?" The concerned look was coming back to Patty's face.

 

Ben nodded, trying to convey a confidence he wasn't really experiencing. He wasn't sure Patty was buying it.

 

"Because we can try and figure something out."

 

Ben just sighed and shook his head. "We've already decided this is the best choice. I'll be fine. I've done this once before, remember?"

 

"Under a controlled setting," Patty protested. "With someone who wasn't actually trying to hurt you. And even then, it wasn't a fun experience."

 

"Patty." Ben's voice was firm. "This is going to happen. I need you to deal with it, because I can't worry about both what's going to happen and you worrying about what's going to happen."

 

Patty finished rimming his eyes and put the makeup away. "Fine. But I don't have to like it."

 

"Noted," Ben replied dryly. "Now. Let's go do this."

 

Ben's stomach was feeling decidedly queasy by the time they made it back to the classroom and took their seats. The look on Patty's face made Ben suspect he wasn't feeling much better.

 

Thomas was already in his seat. He eyes widened in horror when he saw them.

 

"What the hell are you doing?" he whispered anxiously from behind Ben. "The Headmaster is going to actually kill you!"

 

"I'm ninety eight percent sure he won't," Ben whispered back wryly. "He's going to freak out, but try not to panic, okay? I'm prepared for what happens."

 

He knew he wasn't making any sense to Thomas, but he was suddenly reminded of Thomas' complaining about having panic attacks, and he was concerned. He should have remembered to tell Patty to keep an eye on Thomas through what was going to happen. He glanced behind him to find Patty's eyes already on the other boy. It helped him relax slightly. He should have known Thomas would have already been on Patty's radar.

 

Ben had expected it to be bad. It was worse. He hadn't fully realized just how terrible the experience would be, carried out as something real. It had been much easier to ignore their drill sergeant when the camera was on him and he was more concerned with making the right facial expressions at the right time than listening to the script the actor was screaming in his face.

 

The reality was very different. Ben was having a hard time keeping his expression neutral. He kind of wanted to cry, scream at the man, and punch something. All at the same time. The words were cruel, and went against everything the entire band stood for. The accusations, the hate, the homophobic language, the assumptions that came spewing out of the Headmaster were terrifying, in that this was the rhetoric these kids were being taught to believe, about the world and themselves.

 

Ben really wanted to respond, to jump up on the desk, find the damn megaphone, and shout to anyone who would listen what absolute shit they were being told. He couldn't see Patty, but he was sure he was feeling the same.

 

Yet, neither of them did anything. They didn't want to do anything that could be seen as provoking the attack they both knew was coming. They wanted everyone in that room to see that merely for putting on eyeliner or eye shadow, grown men could decide it was appropriate to mock, ridicule, and outright attack someone.  Ben didn't want anything to say what would happen was a result of them being disrespectful or mouthing off.

 

It might have been one of the most difficult things he had ever had to do. They had gotten so used to standing up for what they believed in, and refusing to let toxic ideas stand without challenging them.

 

They would challenge them, but it was going to have to be in a different way than usual.

 

Ben kept quiet, staring straight ahead. Patty was fidgeting nervously in his chair, but he managed to keep his mouth shut.

 

Thomas' breathing was getting a little ragged. Patty shifted in his chair, trying to get his attention. When Thomas glanced his way, Patty mouthed 'It's Okay,' at him, trying to transmit calmness through his own expression and demeanor. Thomas didn't look reassured.

 

Then they were being ordered outside again, and Patty's heart rate sped up. He knew how much of a potential there was for this to go catastrophically wrong. If he needed to step in and stop the Headmaster, he honestly wasn't sure if he could alone. He also wasn't sure if he could count on any of the other student's to side with him, even if things got that dire.

 

Thomas' wasn't the only breathing that was slightly irregular.

 

And then Ben was looking at him, looking way calmer than Ben had any right to look. It calmed Patty slightly, though he couldn't stop the sick feeling in his stomach.

 

The Headmaster stepped forward, setting the large bowl of water down on the ground and ordered them to stand at attention. Everyone was looking vaguely ill as the Headmaster forced Ben to his knees. 

 

Patty was across from Thomas, who was looking more and more panicky. Patty shook his head slightly, keeping his own face neutral, monumentally difficult task though that was. Thomas looked confused, but he didn't seem to be descending into a full-fledged panic attack, so Patty counted that as a win.

 

Then Ben's head was underwater, and Patty lost the next few seconds entirely. His vision whited out, and there was a loud ringing assaulting his ears. He realized he had almost passed out when a gentle hand was at his back, and he glanced in that direction to see one of the other students, one he hadn't even spoken to, keeping him steady with a hand at his spine.

 

His vision cleared, and still Ben was underwater, his hands flailing. Patty was at the point where he was starting to get worried the man wasn't going to stop, when he finally yanked Ben backward, screaming in his face how boy's don't wear makeup as he tried to wipe it off his eyes.

 

Ben had the same exact reaction he had in the music video, spitting out water angrily, chest heaving as he struggled to regain his breath.

 

Patty really wanted to make sure Ben was okay, but he didn't dare approach him while the Headmaster was still there. He suddenly remembered he was supposed to be looking after Thomas. He had gotten so caught up in Ben, he hadn't been keeping an eye on the other boy. He glanced anxiously in Thomas' direction, only to find Thomas staring back at him, just as anxious, but Patty had the definite impression he was worried for them, rather than reacting to his own inner anxiety.

 

Patty felt guilty he hadn't been better at helping Thomas, but the second Ben's head had gone underwater, all rational thought had left his brain.

 

The Headmaster decided he'd had enough of them all for the day, and dismissed the class, loudly proclaiming that they would pick up where they left off the next morning. Patty knew they had to get through to Thomas before the next morning, because the only part of the music video left was that punch, and they needed to avoid it at all costs. He was torn between trying to get through to Thomas, and worrying about Ben, who was looking very waterlogged and rather unnerved, sitting on the ground as he tried to catch his breath.

 

It was Thomas who dropped down next to Ben first, Patty following immediately behind him.

 

"Are you all right?"

 

Ben nodded, coughing violently as he tried to gain enough air to speak.

 

"I'm okay, I think."

 

Patty had Ben's face cupped in his hands and was staring into his eyes in concern, trying to read his expression before he even realized how intimate that gesture might appear.

 

He didn't care. He also didn't move until he was absolutely convinced Ben was telling the truth before he released him.

 

"Well, that was pleasant," Ben grumbled, shaking his sopping wet hair, sending water droplets off in all directions. Patty touched Ben's shirt. The top of it was soaked.

 

"You should get changed," he warned. "Into something dry."

 

Ben nodded wearily, rising to his knees and almost stumbling as he tried to get up. Thomas grabbed his arm to steady him.

 

"Come with me?" Ben asked, eyes flickering back and forth between the two of them.

 

"Me too?" Thomas asked. "I mean, I don't want to intrude. You...probably could use a few minutes."

 

Despite everything, Ben rolled his eyes. Patty had to smile. "If you're trying to help me maintain my manly dignity, don't bother. That sucked. I'm perfectly willing to admit it sucked. And I'm not happy. At all. I don't think I'm going to cry over it, I'm too pissed off, but even if I did, I don't need to hide that from you. So come on."

 

Thomas looked mostly confused at this point, but he followed the two of them in the direction of their room.


	11. Chapter 11

Between the two of them, Patty and Thomas led a slightly unsteady Ben back to their room and deposited him on the bed.

 

Patty busied himself rifling through Ben's wardrobe and pulling out a fresh shirt. Thomas briefly disappeared from the room, reappearing moments later with a towel he handed to Ben who started wringing the water out of his long hair.

 

Patty was then instantly back at his side, nervously trying to help Ben dry off and change, until Ben finally batted his hands away.

 

"Patty! Relax, I'm fine," he insisted, throwing the now wet towel in Patty's direction.

 

Patty caught it, giving Ben a decidedly grumpy look.

 

"Well, excuse me for being concerned."

 

Ben's expression softened. "I know, but I'm okay. I just need a few minutes without hands all over me, okay?"

 

Thomas' face was white. "He could have really hurt you. He...I can't believe he did that!"

 

Ben tilted his head to the side. "I think I have water in my ears."

 

"Are you sure you're all right?" Patty demanded. "You should probably be seeing a doctor or something. You could have inhaled water. What happens if you get pneumonia?"

 

"I didn't inhale water," Ben replied, rolling his eyes toward Thomas, who managed to smile faintly. He still looked ashen. "You worry too much."

 

"Well, forgive me, it isn't every day my best friend is assaulted and battered," Patty muttered, flopping down on the bed beside Ben, arms folded. "By someone who is supposed to be protecting the students, no less."

 

"Not sure if that's the technical term, but I get your point," Ben murmured in reply. 

 

Thomas shook his head. "I don't...I mean...why would he do that? That's not..."

 

Ben and Patty glanced at each other as Thomas trailed off, at a loss for words.

 

"Tom...why do you think he did it?" Patty asked quietly.

 

Thomas glanced down, nervously wringing his hands together. "I don't... I mean, you did break the rules. He...order has to be maintained, right?"

 

It sounded like Thomas was reciting something from a manuscript. Patty had no doubt they weren't his own words, or his own thoughts. It still irritated him that Thomas could even consider the idea that such actions could possibly be justified, even if he was just saying words that had been drilled into him.

 

"So that makes it okay?" Patty asked, keeping his voice level. "Wearing makeup is against the rules, so holding someone's head under water until they almost pass out is okay?"

 

"Of course not!" Thomas was quick to reply, but he still sounded confused. "It's just...I mean, you had to know he would do something. Why would you do that?"

 

Ben sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "Tom. Thomas. Sometimes you have to take a stand, and if something is unfair, or dangerous, or just plain wrong, it's never going to be changed if everyone just goes along with it because they're scared of the consequences of speaking up."

 

"Is it really such a big deal, though?" Thomas nearly pleaded. "Wearing makeup? It's not like it would have hurt anything for you to not wear it in class."

 

Patty shrugged. "Maybe not. But did it really hurt anything or anyone for us to wear it? What was the Headmaster so angry over? Really?"

 

Thomas had to stop and think. "You interfered with his authority. And you..." he trailed off, looking uncomfortable.

 

"We what?" Patty asked encouragingly.

 

Thomas looked embarrassed. "You...people might say you're, you know..."

 

"Gay?" Ben suggested gently.

 

Thomas nodded, a hint of color seeping into his cheeks.

 

"Okay. Well, there's a couple issues here," Patty replied. He reminded himself that Thomas had been forced to listen to a lot of negativity and hate speech, and there was damage that needed to be undone that wasn't entirely Thomas' fault if he believed any of it.

 

"One, makeup does not make someone gay. Lots of straight guys wear makeup. Eye shadow is not going to magically change your sexual orientation. And two, being gay is not something terrible. It doesn't make you weaker, or bad, or wrong, or whatever else they're telling you. You have the right to be yourself and make your own choices, and so does everyone else. And the Headmaster does not have the right to try to bully you or force you into his own idea of what a man is. His idea of a man is the kind that is truly weak and wrong." There was so much wrong with what Thomas had been told, Patty wasn't even sure where to begin or how hard and far to push before it was too much at once.

 

Ben agreed. "Attacking people who are physically weaker than you or trying to force everyone to follow your own ideology doesn't man you a man, it makes you an asshole."

 

Thomas was looking more upset, if anything. "I don't...I mean, I don't hate people like that," he whispered. "I don't. I just...I get sick of being called it, or like, being called a girl, if I show any emotion. I try not to. I promise, I do. But it's like they want me to be miserable. The more upset I get, the more they push. And I don't like being called...that."

 

Patty sighed. "Because they're using it as an insult, which is fucked up," he replied. "To try to make you think that anything that isn't their standard of manly is wrong. Weak. Feminine. And gay is not synonymous with feminine. They use both as an insult, and neither should be. And emotions aren't gay, or feminine, or weak, or anything else they might say. They're just...human."

 

"Other guys do not cry all the time," Thomas protested, digging his nails into his palms. "Other guys can stay strong and keep it together."

 

Patty had a weird flash of screaming the lines to The Stigma out to a crowd of fans, hearing the voices, both male and female, screaming the words right back at him.

 

"Oh, I don't know about that," Patty replied mildly. "Maybe they don't admit it, or cry in front of anyone else, but I expect there are more boys that cry than you think. And the fact that they don't do it in public says more about the problems with society than with them."

 

"Yeah? When's the last time you guys cried?" Thomas demanded.

 

For Ben, it had been after hearing a particularly difficult story from a fan who had broken down in front of him. He had held it together in front of the girl, but after, talking to Patty about how much the music meant to their fans, he had found his cheeks were wet. Actually, he was kind of surprised he hadn't cried yet in this insane world they had ended up in.

 

He figured it had to be denial or shock holding him back.

 

The specifics wouldn't make sense to Thomas, but Ben could still try to explain.

 

"Someone I met was going through something really hard. They started crying, and I ended crying later thinking about it," Ben explained simply. "That was...less than a week ago."

 

Patty nodded. "I cried last night," he admitted quietly. Ben glanced at him in surprise.

 

Patty shrugged. "You had drifted off," he explained to Ben. "I...thought something really bad had happened. It turns out, maybe...it wasn't as bad as I thought, but it was still upsetting."

 

Shit. Ben had drifted off while Patty was crying over the fact that the Thomas from the Wounded World had taken his own life. 

 

And now there was an ache in Ben's chest that matched the ache behind his eyes.

 

Patty reached out and squeezed his hand without even thinking about it. "Don't," he murmured quietly, "You were exhausted, and I'm fine."

 

Thomas' eyes traveled down to where their hands were interlocked. "You two...you do that too. So easily," Thomas observed. "Aren't you afraid someone will say something?"

 

Ben glanced down where Thomas was looking. 

 

"What, touching?" he asked.

 

Thomas nodded. "Like, bro hugs or punching one another on the arm are one thing, but you guys..."

 

Ben looked amused. "Bro hugs?"

 

"You know what I mean," Thomas replied. 

 

"Yeah, like, one armed half hugs that usually involved slapping each other on the back really hard and leaping back as quick as possible to interject a bunch of sports talk," Ben supplied with a laugh.

 

"No! I...well, yeah kinda," Thomas replied sheepishly.

 

Patty blinked slowly. "Thomas. Is it possible for women to hug each other without it being sexual?"

 

"Of course," Thomas replied confusedly.

 

"And for a guy and girl to hug and mean it innocently?"

 

"I...guess?" Thomas replied uncertainly.

 

Ben rolled his eyes.

 

"And two guys?"

 

Thomas shrugged uncomfortably.

 

"Thomas. Physical contact is normal. For humans. Not just girls. Humans. If a girl can hug a girl, and a girl can hug a guy, why the hell can't a guy hug a guy, or hold his hand, or kiss him on the forehead, or whatever without it being sexual?"

 

"I don't know!" Thomas replied. "Because they say so!"

 

"Who's they?" Patty asked patiently.

 

"The Headmaster. The people in charge. Them!"

 

"The Headmaster just forced all of us to go outside and watch him threaten and attack someone who was defenseless against him for putting on eyeliner," Patty replied quietly. "Are you sure that's the kind of man whose view of the world you want to blindly follow?"

 

"I don't...I don't like it," Thomas insisted, his breathing speeding up. "I just...I'm not like you guys. I just need to keep my head down until I get out of here!"

 

"Hey, easy," Ben cautioned, laying a hand on Thomas' shoulder in what he hoped would be a reassuring manner. "Just breathe. We're not trying to force you into anything you're not comfortable with. We just don't like seeing anyone else force you into some kind of mold they're trying to make of their idea of a man when we can see just how damaging it is."

 

"This kind of attitude is toxic," Patty agreed quietly. "It's mentally, emotionally, and psychologically damaging. It hurts the boys who are forced to live up to an impossible standard that's unhealthy for them, it hurts the women who these men are never taught to value or respect, it hurts the families who can't ever have an honest and truthful conversation."

 

"We don't want to tell you how to live your life, Thomas, but eventually everyone has to make a choice about the kind of person they want to be," Patty's voice carried in the quiet room. "We can't stand quietly by while that man goes against everything we believe in. Even if it's difficult, even if it's dangerous. Maybe it seems like the makeup isn't a big deal, and we should have just let it go, but it's much more than that. It's not just about eyeliner. It's about what your values are and whether you're willing to stand up for them."

 

"I don't...I don't know what I believe," Thomas admitted quietly. "I mean...what you say makes sense. But it's not...not what I'm used to hearing. But you guys...you're a lot nicer than those dicks!"

 

Ben almost had to laugh. "Maybe just start there, Thomas. Figure out what sounds like the decent choice. It's pretty much always going to be the one that makes you less of a dick."

 

Thomas nodded, but he still looked less sure than Patty would have liked.

 

"Listen...I...hate to do this, but I do have homework I need to finish," Thomas announced suddenly. "I should...probably head back to my own room."

 

Patty recognized at attempt at escape when he heard one, but he figured any more pushing might just overwhelm Thomas. He nodded. "Yeah, okay. Just...you're a good person, Thomas. Trust yourself, okay?"

 

Thomas nodded, smiling faintly, and made a hasty retreat out of the room.

 

Patty turned to Ben.

 

"Do you think it will be enough?"

 

Ben shrugged. "We'll just have to wait and see."

 

Patty nodded unhappily, eyeing Ben up and down.

 

"Are you sure you're okay?"

 

Ben nodded. "Honestly? I'm still really, really pissed off at that asshole. And my neck kind of hurts where it was digging into the side of the bowl. And my ear still has water in it. Oh, and why didn't you tell me you were still awake and crying last night?"

 

Patty raised an eyebrow. "It's not that unusual for me to cry, Ben. If I needed you, I would have woken you up. You needed to sleep. I was fine. Crying is an emotional release for me."

 

"That does not make me feel better, Patty."

 

Patty just patted Ben on the head. "We just spent twenty minutes telling Thomas crying is a normal human response. Don't worry about it."

 

"You drive me nuts, you know that?" Ben grumbled, removing Patty's hand from his head.

 

Patty just smiled. "You love me anyway."


	12. Chapter 12

By the next morning, Patty and Ben were both exhausted and irritable.

 

Neither of them had been able to sleep for more than a few minutes at a time, and they had spent most of the night tossing and turning and arguing with each other over what was the best way to deal with the impending attack on Thomas.

 

Patty wanted to try to completely divert the Headmaster's attention to them, in the hope he would ignore Thomas entirely. Ben wasn't against the idea, but he didn't hold out much hope they would be successful, and was more concerned with what they would do if the man called Thomas to the front of the room as he had in the music video.

 

Patty was determined if that happened, he was going to jump up in front of Thomas and insist the Headmaster stop. Ben tried to gently point out that Patty would not be able to always jump to Thomas' defense, and eventually, they would have to let Thomas make his own choices.

 

Patty's heated response was that as long as he was in a position to say something or try to come to someone's aide, he was damn well going to take the opportunity.

 

Ben couldn't really argue with that logic. He didn't really want to either, he was just worried what would happen the moment the two of them weren't around to protect Thomas.

 

The next morning, the two of them quietly dressed, both lost in their own thoughts. They both went through the ritual of putting on the makeup, hoping it would draw the Headmaster's attention back to them, though neither of them was particularly hopeful it would work.

 

They walked to the classroom in silence, Patty sighing heavily as he took his seat. Thomas slipped into his own chair moments later. The dark rings under his eyes had Patty suspecting he hadn't slept any more than the two of them had.

 

The Headmaster strode in moments later. He noticed Patty and Ben's rimmed eyes, but said nothing, though his expression darkened noticeably. 

 

He launched into a tirade about how real men could stand up for themselves and protect themselves, and how he was going to teach them all how important it was to know how to defend one's self.

 

The Headmaster's eyes swept over the class, and Patty knew exactly what was going to happen long before the man's eyes landed on Thomas and he ordered him to the front of the room.

 

Ben was already half out of his seat, and Patty was about to object when Thomas glanced and both of them and shook his head. Ben paused, and Patty bit his lip, torn between aiding Thomas and respecting his wishes. He knew what was coming. Thomas would be completely unprepared.

 

Ben settled back in his seat, watching nervously as the Headmaster mimed punching in Thomas' direction and then raised his own fists, loudly declaring that the best defense was a good offense and that most of the time it wouldn't be enough to just stop the other person, that a real man would win the fight and beat his opponent so he wouldn't ever be stupid enough to try again.

 

Patty couldn't take it. 

 

"Why is fighting the best option? Isn't it better to try to talk things out or get the other person's perspective? Isn't coming to a mutual understanding or compromise better than just forcing someone to do things your way so you don't beat them up?"

 

The Headmaster snorted, rolling his eyes. "I'm sure when you're bleeding all over the sidewalk you'll realize how naive you sound. No one wants to compromise. Real men don't compromise. That just means you're too weak or dumb to make people do things your way."

 

"Attacking someone half your size is not strength, it's bullying," Patty snapped. "And forcing people to listen to you through fear doesn't make you strong. Don't you want people to listen because they find your point valid and respect you, not just because they're afraid of you?"

 

"Enough!" The Headmaster finally erupted in anger. "This is not a democracy. You don't have a voice. You're hear to learn how to be a man because so far, you've completely failed and you're an embarrassment to your family and friends and so you were sent here. I'm done listening to you." He turned to Thomas. "Prove you're a man, and not a whiny little girl like Patrick here. Put up your hands and fight me."

 

Patty was out of his chair and halfway up the aisle and Ben was right next to him, but it was too late. 

 

The Headmaster threw a couple fake punches in Thomas' direction, before he actually lashed out, hitting him in the eye.

 

The entire room froze.

 

Patty was on the edge of a panic attack, breathing hard as he felt the world crashing down around them. He had failed. Their one quest had been to stop the Headmaster before Thomas was injured, and he had failed. Worse, he was afraid his speech to the Headmaster might have actually triggered the man to lash out and hurt Thomas. The worst thing that could have happened had happened, and it was probably his fault.

 

Ben was trapped between a quickly spiraling Patty and a shocked looking Thomas. Ben had grown used to Patty's emotional state being his first priority, and being stuck between two boys who both needed him had him momentarily frozen in indecision.

 

It was Thomas who actually broke the silence. His eye was rapidly swelling, and Ben knew there would be a nasty bruise before long. Thomas still looked stunned as he raised his fingers to gently poke at his eye.

 

"You...I...No. You know what? Just no." Thomas shook his head, wincing slightly as the movement hurt his bruised face. He turned to face the class, who were all looking uncomfortable and edging quickly into indignant or outright angry.

 

"This is not...I don't care what my parents thought. They can't have known this was what they were sending me into. My father hasn't hit anyone in his life. This is all garbage. It's complete bull shit." Thomas' voice was getting louder, and faster. He pointed to Patty and Ben. "These two. They're the only ones who have been decent to me since I've been here. And they get nothing but shit. For what? Wearing eye liner? Liking books? Not wanting to play sports? What is wrong with us?" 

 

Well, that was unexpected. Ben had expected Thomas to go back to his seat like he had in the music video, before breaking down in tears. Apparently, Thomas had decided to have a breakthrough, rather than a break down. He'd had enough of the toxic masculinity that society and the Headmaster were trying to drill into him, and he'd exploded into an impassioned speech that could have given Patty a run for his money. Which was probably just as well, because from the look on his face, Patty was the one who was moments away from tears.

 

There was an underlying murmuring in the room that was slowly getting louder. Some of the other students were nodding along with Thomas' words. The Headmaster sensed he was losing control. 

 

"Quiet! All of you. I will not tolerate this nonsense. I want you all to go to your individual rooms and write an essay on what being a real man means. I want a list of things that make you a man, and things that men shouldn't want, or think, or feel. You know what's expected of you. Don't let this New Age, girly, gay, rainbow cupcake garbage thinking take over. No one wants a man who acts like a wimp and lets people walk all over him. Think about what's really important. I expect your essays on my desk before lunch. If you fail this assignment, there will be consequences."

 

Ben considered entering into the fray with his own response, but ultimately decided it would be better to regroup first, and all but dragged a still overwhelmed looking Patty and still fired up Thomas out of the room and back to his and Patty's dorm room, before depositing them both on the bed.

 

"So...that went well?" Ben suggested somewhat doubtfully, staring at the other two boys.

 

Thomas grinned. "That felt amazing! I can't even....He hit me! He fucking hit me! I can't believe I even said all that, I was just so mad. Everything you guys had said yesterday, and then he kept going on and on and putting down everything you said, and you guys made so much more sense, and you suck so much less, and he's just a dick-" Thomas broke off, finally running out of steam. "I can't believe I did that. I'm insane. He's going to kill me. Oh my God."

 

"He's not going to kill you," Ben reassured him immediately. "We've got your back. Right, Patty?"

 

Patty stared at Ben, turned and blinked slowly at Thomas, and promptly burst into tears.


	13. Chapter 13

Ben had to triage. Thomas' brain had finally caught up with his actions, and Ben watched his rhythmic breathing increase in speed with alarm while Patty stared at Ben with a tear streaked face and tried to get himself under control.

 

Ben's first instinct was always going to be Patty, but he had sat with him through enough bad days to know when Patty was truly spiraling out of control. Right now Patty was overwhelmed, but it was out of relief rather than panic. 

 

Ben dropped to his knees, ending up looking up at both of them from the floor as they sat on the bed and stared back at him like they were hoping Ben held all the answers to the universe.

 

Ben didn't have any answers in his own universe, never mind this one. He sighed, brushing his hair back behind his ears as he tried to figure out what to do.

 

Thomas was fidgeting nervously. "I...Seriously. That was insane. He just...he made me so mad. And kind of wished I could hit him. But there's no way I could...He would pound me into the floor. And then I thought about you guys, and how you put up with all this bullshit and you've never hurt anybody. And I...I didn't even think. I just started mouthing off." He turned to Patty anxiously. "Are you all right? I...It's my fault, isn't it? I didn't mean to upset you. I shouldn't have done that."

 

Patty laughed incredulously, though his breath was still hitching and it turned into a kind of hiccuping attack.

 

"Are you serious? Thomas, you stood up to him. That's amazing. The only way things are going to change is if people speak up and refuse to accept things that should be absolutely unacceptable just because it's easier or they're afraid of the consequences. I'm not upset because of you. I'm upset because of him!"

 

Ben reached out and placed a hand on Patty's knee, a gentle reminder of his presence. He knew most of Patty's response had been a reaction to the stress of thinking if he didn't stop the Headmaster, Thomas wouldn't be able to handle it, and they might lose him. It wouldn't make sense to Thomas, but Patty's fear had been that Thomas would end up so overwhelmed and upset and hurt that he would kill himself, and Patty wouldn't be able to stop it. It made sense to Patty because he knew what happened to Thomas in their last unreality. To this Thomas, it probably seemed like an overreaction.

 

Overreaction or not, Patty had every right to his emotions, and his responses to them. Seeing Patty actually get upset and express his emotions in a healthy way might not be such a bad thing, Ben realized. If Thomas could see Patty cry and allow Thomas and himself to be there and support him and offer comfort, maybe he could see that allowing himself to feel and express his own emotions might not be such a bad thing.

 

Ben's thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on the door. Patty and Thomas both glanced towards the door in alarm. Ben mimed for both of them to stay put, and for once, Patty actually listened. Ben went to the door and opened it slightly, only to find a couple of boys he recognized from their class on the other side, both looking uncertain.

 

"Have you seen Thomas?" One of them asked nervously. "We wanted to make sure he's okay, and he wasn't in his room."

 

Ben hesitated, and then opened the door fully, ushering the two boys in. Patty wiped his eyes with his sleeve and peered towards the visitors. He recognized one of the boys as the one who had silently supported him with a hand at his back when Ben had been pushed underwater and he had nearly blacked out on his feet.

 

"Guys?" Thomas looked surprised to see them, and both boys were shifting nervously from foot to foot. "...Yeah. We just wanted to make sure you were okay..." one of the students replied, glancing in Patty's direction and then quickly away.

 

Patty exchanged a wry smile with Ben. "You don't have to pretend you don't see I'm crying," Patty offered, wiping a finger under his eyes. "Contrary to popular belief, boys do actually cry, and as far as I'm concerned, it's a pretty fucking natural response to being stuck in this insane hellhole."

 

Ben stood and went over to the chest of drawers, rummaging around until he came up with a pack of tissues, which he handed to Patty, who dabbed at his eyes and blew his nose. "I'm not embarrassed by it."

 

They both nodded, but Ben noticed they were still avoiding eye contact with Patty.

 

"We just...I think he finally went to far," one of the boys admitted quietly. "That just...seemed wrong."

 

"It was wrong," Patty said firmly. The tears had finally subsided and he was back on target with his mission, Ben observed. He could tell when Patty was gearing up for lecture mode.

 

"So we do better," Ben interjected before Patty could speak. Patty glanced at him in surprise. Ben shrugged. "We're not going to talk sense into him, and we're not going to change his mind, or the views of this school. All we can do is choose what kind of example we want to make, what kind of people we want to be. We can follow what they say blindly, and obey their rules, or we can make sure they know we've chosen a different way."

 

"How?" Thomas asked miserably. "All that's going to end with is a bunch of black eyes."

 

"The more of us that stick together, the less they can pressure us," Patty replied. 

 

Ben turned to the other two boys. "The other kids, I saw their faces. No one is happy with this, right? If we're alone, it's going to seem impossible to stop it. But if we all band together, we're stronger. They can't beat up every one of us. The Headmaster attacked Thomas to try to demoralize us. To make us fear him. And maybe on our own, we aren't stronger than him, but there's a lot more of us than there is of him."

 

Both boys found themselves staring at Patty and Ben's determined faces, and Thomas' bruised one. They nodded slowly. "I mean...if you have a plan. None of us like this. We just don't know what to do about it," the one who had helped Patty replied.

 

Patty grinned. Ben rolled his eyes. "If you ask for a megaphone Patty, I swear..."

 

Patty sent him a look that was far too innocent looking for Ben to believe it for a second. Thomas looked confused.

 

"No megaphone," Patty assured him. "He asked for an essay. He's going to get one. The same one. From every one of us."

 

Thomas and the two boys were looking more lost by the minute. It took Ben a second.

 

"You're kidding me."

 

"What?" Patty replied. "I mean, let's be real. What do we do best? What does our whole life revolve around?"

 

Ben had to laugh. "You want to give him the song."

 

Patty nodded enthusiastically. "And then I want us to play it!"

 

Ben blinked at him. "Uh...You don't think that might be taking things a little far?"

 

"What are you two talking about?" Thomas finally interjected.

 

"Patrick here writes songs," Ben explained, half amused and half exasperated. "It's kind of his passion."

 

"You help," Patty retorted pleasantly.

 

Ben made a vague gesture like he was shooing Patty away. Patty actually had the nerve to stick his tongue out at him.

 

"We've written a song about this kind of stuff," Ben admitted semi-reluctantly. "Toxic masculinity. Gender expectations. I think Patty wants to make a point by having everyone write out the lyrics to the song and turn it in."

 

"It's perfect!" Patty insisted. "Every lyric in that song is sarcastic. It's basically  regurgitating with spite and anger all the toxic masculinity that's been thrown at us our entire life. Stay strong, Hold on, Keep it together. Boys don't cry. Which is why we need to play it. So they can feel the emotion behind it. How we reject that rhetoric. How damaging the words are." He gave Ben a meaningful look. "You can't tell me, considering the circumstances we're in, that we aren't meant to play that song."

 

Ben could absolutely tell him that. Out of all the ideas Patty had every come up with, and there had been some crazy ones, this had to be the craziest. Then again, the entire universe they were in was insane. Patty kept insisting they had a purpose here, and he couldn't argue that for a band who dealt with the kind of themes they did, it did make a weird sort of sense that the culmination of this bizarre journey would be a fucking sing-along version of The Stigma. Maybe if they did it, they could actually finish this and go home.

 

Ben would do almost anything if it meant going home.

 

He really wished he had a drink right now.

 

Ben finally nodded slowly. Patty wasn't going to back down, and while the others were giving him some pretty odd looks, they hadn't actually objected. Ben figured that had to mean something, because any normal human in a normal situation would have informed Patty that he was insane. Maybe in this insane world, they thought Patty's solution made perfect sense.

 

Ben's head kind of hurt.

 

He then came up with a objection. "Patty, he's not going to sit quietly while you serenade him. And we don't have any instruments."

 

"There's a guitar in the music room," offered one of the boys.

 

Of course there was.

 

"And we're all going to sing," Patty added. "He can't shut us all up." He turned to Thomas. "You can convince everyone, can't you? Get them all in here. We'll write the words and learn the song together." He smiled brightly at Ben. "And you can play guitar!"

 

Thomas, under Patty's spell as far as Ben was concerned, agreed all too easily and left the room with the other two boys to track down their classmates and gather them all back in Patty and Ben's room.

 

Which gave Ben enough time to point out to Patty just how ridiculous his scheme was.

 

"You know this isn't going to work on the Headmaster," Ben said urgently once the boys had left. "What are we doing, Patty?"

 

"It doesn't have to work on the Headmaster," Patty replied quietly, shutting the door and wrapping an arm loosely around Ben. "It only has to work on the boys. If they can see there's another way, if they can see how sticking together and doing something, especially if it's something as crazy and 'unmanly' as singing a song together, maybe they'll realize that they need to worry less about whether they'll look dumb, or someone will mock them, and worry more about supporting one another and sticking up for one another, even if it's uncomfortable for them or feels stupid or silly. If we act like this is a terrible idea, it will fall apart, Ben. We need to convince them that it's a good idea. For better or worse, right now they're looking for us for guidance. I would rather feel like I'm doing good even if it seems insane than do nothing."

 

Ben really couldn't argue with that. Which is how he found himself sitting in his room surrounded by a group of very confused but curiously willing boys, valiantly trying to teach them a song before lunch started and all hell would invariably break loose. 


	14. Chapter 14

Ben had to admit, it was a lot more fun than he expected it to be. 

 

Gathering all the boys and explaining what they had planned had gone much better than Ben had anticipated. It was like every one of them had been searching for something to grasp onto to help them get out of the hell they were living in. Patty's enthusiasm was infectious, and he had always had a way of expressing himself that moved others to action. 

 

The number of teens who had come up to them before and after shows, shyly explaining how their lyrics had helped them through a difficult night, or kept them from self harming, or made them feel like they weren't alone was a constant source of awe for Ben. He knew it was for Patty as well, perhaps even more so, because Patty could never see in himself the kind, approachable, caring person Ben knew him to be.

 

Patty had a way of breaking down barriers that people had sealed around themselves, sometimes even for years. He was so earnest and honest, it just felt wrong not to respond to that degree of confidence and trust in other people to hear his story without using it against him without offering Patty something in return.

 

Patty's trust in others, and openness about his own emotional problems, fears, and hopes would often lead others to confide in him, sometimes to the point where it got overwhelming. It had happened to Ben as well. They all bore the burden of their fans stories, and while they did it willingly, it could get heavy at times.

 

Now though, Patty was managing to slowly get the other boys to open up. They would rehearse the song, stop for a bit and talk as they all wrote out the lyrics to turn in, rehearse some more, and get sidetracked into more conversation. It took less time than Ben had expected for them to memorize the song. Before long they were singing along to other songs from other bands, Ben playing along on the guitar Thomas had gone and retrieved from the music room. 

 

They actually felt like a cohesive unit, and Ben was almost starting to think they might not crash and burn as badly as he had thought.

 

As Patty had said, they weren't looking to change the Headmaster's mind. He was beyond their help. They just needed to help the boys stick together, and their tentative attempts at opening up to each other gave him hope.

 

Maybe, just maybe, if they could all band together and take on the Headmaster and come out of it without breaking and sinking into the mold he was trying to force them into, it would be enough to start them on their path, and he and Patty could go home.

 

Ben really, really wanted to go home.

 

Ben finished the last repetition of The Stigma, his fingers strumming the strings on autopilot as his mind raced in a hundred different directions.

 

Patty clapped his hands together, and every head in the room turned to him.

 

"So...it's time," Patty announced, his voice a lot steadier than Ben suspected his own would have been. "If you all want to give me your papers, I'll drop the lyrics off on the Headmaster's desk. Then I'll meet you for lunch....Hopefully, he doesn't look at the papers until after lunch. Otherwise, we might have a bigger audience than we thought."

 

Ben insisted on accompanying Patty to the classroom, in case the man was there. He wouldn't put it past the Headmaster to do something to Patty if he caught him alone. Thomas decided there was strength in numbers, and the next thing he knew, Patty had a group of six accompanying him to the room, where fortunately, the Headmaster was nowhere to be seen.

 

Their willingness to potentially put themselves in harm's way for Patty left a strange tightness in Ben's chest. Pride and worry were battling each other, and physically manifesting as a tension that thrummed deep in Ben's body like the vibrations that were sent straight to his core when the amps were turned up during a show loud enough to make the floor tremble.

 

Lunch passed by uneventfully, the boys talking animatedly among themselves. Ben found himself getting more and more keyed up, as the kind of manic energy that normally preceded a show came upon him, without an immediate outlet to pour itself into. He glanced towards Patty, who was watching him with the same sort of wild energy reflecting in his eyes.

 

Ben had been expecting to dread the upcoming confrontation. As it turned out, he was impatient for it.

 

Patty was faring no better. Thomas had to wave his hand in front of Patty's face to catch his attention long enough for Patty to answer a question.

 

Finally though, lunch was over and the boys returned to the empty classroom and took their seats, silent save for the rustling of papers and relentless shifting of bodies sitting restlessly in their chairs.

 

The Headmaster strode in, smiling grimly as he noted the silent room and pile of papers on his desk. He sat down and picked up the stack, tapping the pile against the desk to straighten them before rifling through the pile.

 

His brow furrowed, and his expression rapidly became darker.

 

"What the hell is this?" he demanded, slapping the pile on the desk and standing. "They're all identical!"

 

Patty shrugged. He was slouched in his seat with an exaggerated casualness that Ben had to admire. "We all agreed we share the same sentiment," he replied calmly. "We take your opinion of what a man is, and we reject it."

 

The Headmaster looked like he would have loved to throttle Patty. "Oh really?" he sneered. "And who's going to tell me what a man should be? You, Patty? With your girl makeup and your girl name?"

 

He couldn't have given Patty a better opening if he had tried. A grin spread across Patty's face. Ben found his own lips twitching upwards. Trust Patty to face down a dangerous and infuriated man, and fucking enjoy himself. Give him a cause, and it really didn't matter what stood in Patty's way. 

 

There were days when Ben suspected the only thing Patty actually feared was himself. He rarely backed down if his sense of justice or protectiveness was threatened. The man could probably snap Patty in half like a twig, and Patty was staring at him with the kind of expression parents usually reserve for unruly toddlers who have disappointed them.

 

Sometimes Ben really did wonder at Patty's sanity.

 

"As it just so happens, I am going to tell you. With some help," Patty replied pleasantly. "Ben?"

 

Ben reached down and picked up the guitar that had been resting by his feet. He strummed a couple chords as he watched the Headmaster's face turn an alarming shade of red. "Whenever you're ready, Patty."

 

Patty counted them off, before starting to sing, his voice loud and firm. Ben's voice immediately joined his, followed by Thomas'. It took a couple more words before a couple more voices joined in, shaky and softer, but Ben had to give them credit, because up until this second, he hadn't been sure it would work at all.

 

That was all it took. Once a couple boys joined in, the others followed suit. Ben could tell they were uncomfortable, but he couldn't blame them. They were way outside their comfort zones, taking on the man that had terrorized the entire class.

 

The man who was currently staring at the class in disbelief. He was so  shocked, Patty made it through the entire first verse before he even moved. He broke out of his daze, raising his voice and demanding they all be silent, right this second.

 

Patty ignored him, and just got louder. Ben strummed harder, endeavoring to drown out the Headmaster's voice. The other boys sensed the Headmaster losing control, and Patty taking it, and got louder themselves. By the end of the song, Patty was screaming himself hoarse, and the Headmaster was fuming.

 

"I hope you think you proved something here," the Headmaster said, his voice tight with barely contained rage. "Because Patrick and Ben now have detention with me every day for the next month. Anyone who doesn't want to join them will immediately write a new essay, and will be joining me every morning an hour before class for physical training and will not have any further contact with Patrick, Ben, or Tom."

 

He glared at Thomas, who, to his credit, remained upright in his seat and stared right back. 

 

The Headmaster snorted. "Don't think I don't know you're just as involved as those two," he told Thomas. "I'm done with their influence. You're going to find yourself in some re-education classes, and you aren't going to like it."

 

Patty was already ready to argue, but a soft voice a couple rows behind him had him pausing.

 

"It wasn't Patty." Ben wasn't even sure which student had spoken. "It was me."

 

Another voice spoke up. "No, it was all my idea."

 

And another. "Actually, I came up with the idea. So if you're going to punish anyone, it's going to have to be me."

 

Thomas stood up, locking eyes with the Headmaster. Patty held his breath.

 

"It was all of us," Thomas said firmly. "You're not going to be able to single anyone out anymore to abuse, because we aren't going to let you. We all did it, we'll all claim we had the idea. And you're not separating us from Patty and Ben. Frankly, we don't trust you."

 

There was a soft chorus of voices calling out in agreement.

 

"You're a bully," Thomas continued. "You use fear and coercion and violence to get what you want. We're done. You aren't stronger than all of us. We reject your idea of what being a man means. I have way more respect for Patty and Ben then I'll ever have for you. You are toxic. And we're done listening."

 

The Headmaster glared at Thomas. "This isn't over," he warned, but his threat seemed a lot emptier now than it had mere moments ago. The other boys were standing up, gathering close to Thomas and nodding in agreement. Thomas reached out, pulling Patty and Ben into the group. 

 

The Headmaster just shook his head in disgust. He stomped out of the room, making threats the entire way, but the boys all ignored him. Once he left the room, Patty walked over to the door and bolted it shut. He turned back to the boys, whose expressions were quickly morphing from determination to shock. Patty understood the feeling.

 

"I...It  worked," he finally managed to stutter out. Thomas smiled. "Oh, he'll come up with a way to make us all pay later," he replied, sounding oddly unconcerned with the prospect. "But he can't do anything to one of us he can't do to all of us. We'll make sure of it," he added firmly. 

 

Ben exchanged a slow smile with Patty. Thomas seemed almost poised to take over as leader. If that was how it was meant to be, it might actually mean they had done what they needed to, and Thomas and the boys could move forward on their own. Ben knew it wouldn't be easy, but they had something to fight for now. Each other. Ben knew he would fight a hell of a lot harder for Patty than even himself. And Patty would do the same.

 

The other boys were nodding timidly, and Thomas was talking quietly to them. Patty watched him go to student after student, checking with each one. Thomas finally made it to the two of them. "I really need to thank you," he admitted quietly. "I spent so long worrying about what everyone else expected and wanted and thought, I didn't think about what was right, or what I wanted. I made myself a nervous wreck trying to keep everyone else happy. Turns out, I should have been listening to myself."

 

"It's natural," Patty replied with a shrug. "Wanting to fit in. Not wanting to make waves. But eventually, we have to start following our own compass, or we'll make ourselves crazy. Especially when we see people around us doing things we know aren't right."

 

Thomas nodded. "You two changed everything, you know," he murmured. "I don't think we would have ever gotten here without you."

 

Ben smiled. "Sometimes all it takes is a little push to get things moving," he replied. "We just gave you a nudge. You can build momentum yourself."

 

Thomas nodded slowly. "Still...thank you," he repeated, impulsively leaning in and hugging the two of them at the same time. 

 

Patty smiled at the contact, hugging him back fiercely. "You've got this," he assured him. "You'll see."

 

Thomas broke the hug, giving them both one last smile. "...I guess we should break off until we see what's next," he suggested, nodding at the door. 

 

Patty agreed. They unbarred the door, Thomas smiling at the two of them with a slightly wistful look on his face. Ben had the uneasy feeling like Thomas was somehow saying goodbye as they headed back to their room, the other boys wandering back  in the directions of their own rooms.

 

Patty waited until they were in their room with the door closed before he spoke. "Do...do you think that's it?" he asked uncertainly. "Do you think we did it?"

 

Ben could only shrug. "I don't...Patty, I have no idea. I mean, that was progress, right? But I've never understood the rules of this insane place. I have no idea if that was enough. We could wake up tomorrow in our own hotel rooms, or all hell could break out with the Headmaster. I have no clue."

 

Patty groaned, heading for his bed and flopping backwards onto it. "I am so sick of all of this. I'm exhausted."

 

Ben nodded. His own eyes were suddenly harder and harder to keep open. "Me too," he agreed, sitting on his own bed. "It's been one nonstop crazy ride."

 

Patty yawned, closing his eyes. "I just need a minute. I'll be fine in a minute."

 

Except a minute turned into longer, and the next time Patty opened his eyes, reality had shifted again.

 

Patty bolted upright, staring around him. "What the fuck? No. Nononononono."

 

He glanced around, his anxiety rising as he took in the room.

 

"Ben? Ben!"


	15. Act Three

**Act III**

 

**The Reaper**

 

 

 

There was a chill to the air. The stripped bare mattress Patty was sitting on was cool to the touch. He shivered involuntarily, noticing that his clothes had once again changed to match the music video for The Reaper, though the red collared shirt and black sweater were barely keeping the cold at bay.

 

The room was exactly as he remembered it. Cobwebs and dust covered the furniture, and the lamps barely cast a dull light that left more shadows visible than illumination.

 

Patty could feel his heart rate increasing by the moment. He felt as if the room was slowly rotating around him, and his sense of sound was muted, save for an incessant ringing in his ears. He curled in on himself, holding his head in his hands and closing his eyes for several long moments, struggling to bring his breathing back under control. 

 

Slowly, the lightheaded dizziness dissipated, and he could focus on something other than his own body's reactions to this new situation.

 

He hesitantly rose from the bed and started exploring the small space. He shied away from the cloth covered table, remembering the pictures of the Poet's wife lay under the fabric in the music video. He wasn't the Poet, and really didn't want to think about what it would mean if he was expected to jump into his life. The parts of the Poet that came from him were enough to make him uneasy. He really didn't want the darkness of the Poet's existence seeping under his skin and into his own life.

 

The window was entirely bricked over. Patty had been expecting it, and it didn't surprise him to find there was absolutely no give in the solid wall. If there was an exit, it wouldn't be that way.

 

The door was solid, and firmly locked. There was an old fashioned key-hole, which didn't reassure Patty in the least, considering that in the music video, he had been the only one left without a key at the end. Of course, Ben's key had been coughed up in a pool of black blood, and Patty didn't expect that would be a particularly enjoyable experience to undergo in reality.

 

Ben.

 

Patty found himself screaming Ben's name as loud as he could. He paused, listening desperately, only to be met by silence. Several more minutes of yelling yielded the same results. Wherever Ben was, he wasn't without shouting distance of Patty.

 

Patty was starting to think he might have to continue along the path of the video. There was a knot in his stomach, and his entire body was vibrating with nervous energy. He found his gaze returning to the covered table, over and over. He suspected the only way to move forward would be to uncover what lay beneath, but he was afraid of what he would find. The Poet was a character he was only comfortable channeling under his own terms. The Poet was like a black hole of pain and anger and depression. As long as Patty could orbit around the edge and direct the emotions he couldn't handle into the void, where the Poet would consume them for him, he would be okay. Creep to close to the center, however, and the gravitational pull would suck him in and swallow him whole.

 

It appeared there was little choice, however. Patty couldn't stay in the room forever. He reluctantly went over to the table, hesitantly putting his hand on the cloth covered objects. They felt like picture frames. Patty sighed, finally lifting up the fabric covering and exposing the items beneath.

 

His breath caught in his throat. 

 

It was a picture frame. But rather than the actress playing the Poet's wife, it was a very familiar face in the photo. Patty picked up the frame, staring at it in confusion.

 

Thomas.

 

Patty's voice was barely a whisper. "What...the...hell."

 

As Patty studied the picture, the lights began to flicker.

 

Patty dropped the frame, spinning around as the lights dimmed and brightened. 

 

"Please don't be a ghost," Patty whispered, pleading to the air as the temperature dropped several more degrees and the flickering increased in frequency. "We saved you. Please don't be a ghost."

 

And suddenly, there he was, standing in front of Patty.

 

Thomas' expression was a little sad, a little wistful, and a little confused.

 

Patty was a lot confused.

 

Patty reached out for Thomas and then froze, remembering how in the music video the Poet's wife's dress had blossomed with blood which stained the Poet's hands. Patty could almost feel the wetness dripping like a too vivid memory come to life. 

 

He couldn't bring himself to touch Thomas. Thomas looked uncertain, but at least he looked alive in the dim light. Patty was afraid he would be the catalyst that would harm Thomas. Thomas reached out his own hand, but Patty merely shook his head, backing up nervously.

 

"I can't..." he whispered, guilt eating at him at Thomas' sad expression. "I don't know what would happen. I can't hurt you, Thomas. I can't take that chance."

 

Patty could have sworn Thomas rolled his eyes at him, but it might have been a trick of the light, because in the next moment, Thomas expression was blank, and he backed up a few steps, watching Patty silently.

 

They stayed like that for a long while, trapped at an impasse, until the lights started flickering again. Patty flinched. Each time the lights darkened, for a mere second or two, Thomas changed. His face became more drawn and pained looking, and his skin noticeably took on a too white pallor, his lips hued an unhealthy blue.

 

The longer Patty stared, the more the two versions of Thomas seemed to merge. Once or twice Patty found himself rubbing his eyes as the flickering images melded and separated. Once Patty almost swore his own face was looking back at him. He closed his eyes and held out a hand, leaning against a wall for support.

 

"Please, stop this," he pleaded, unsure who he was even asking, Thomas or someone else. "What do you want?"

 

Thomas remained silent, but another voice suddenly broke the silence.

 

"Not me, Patty. The question is, what do you want?"

 

Patty opened his eyes, only to wish he had kept them closed. 

 

He knew exactly what to expect, but it didn't make the apparition before him any less shocking to actually see. Aaron Gillespie's face stared out at him from a body covered in a dark cloak. 

 

Patty was glad he was holding onto the wall, because the room was spinning again. He backed up until the wall was against his back. "You're...him, aren't you?" he asked nervously, aware of how stupid a question it was.

 

The Aaron look-alike looked faintly amused. "You're going to have to be more specific, I'm afraid. I'm a lot of things."

 

Patty really didn't want to say it. "...Death. You're Death, right?"

 

The figure shrugged. "Death will do. Death. The Reaper. Those are the names you gave me. This is the reality you conjured up. I'm different things to different people." Death looked even more amused. "Of course, most people don't dictate their own afterlife or between-life quite so literally."

 

Patty was starting to feel decidedly ill.

 

"...Am I dead?"

 

Death tilted his head to the side, watching Patty curiously. His gaze drifted between Patty and the silent Thomas.

 

"I suppose it depends. Do you want to be?"


	16. Chapter 16

There was a pain in his neck.

 

That was the first thing that caught Ben's attention as he regained consciousness.

 

Followed immediately by the fact that he was sitting half propped up against a wall. The air around him was cold. The floor was cold. His body was stiff and achy. There was a weird itchiness creeping up his arms.

 

He opened his eyes, staring blurrily around him. As the room around him came into focus, he found himself swearing violently.

 

It was the damn room from the video for The Reaper. Of course it was. It followed a certain kind of sense that they would end up here, but Ben was really tired of being thrown into random insane realities. He rubbed his neck as he stumbled to his feet, glaring at the room around him grumpily.

 

It was bare except for a couple mirrors and a lamp. And didn't that just figure? Patty would end up with an entire fucking bedroom, even if it was tattered and covered in dust, and he didn't even have a damn chair to sit in. He wrapped his arms around himself, trying to warm his sore extremities, and stomped over to the mirror. If tradition held, the Reaper would appear in it at some point. And then he would have a meltdown and spit up a key in a puddle of black blood, which wasn't ideal, but he was pissed off enough that he wasn't really thinking all that clearly.

 

He stared into the mirror and started ranting.

 

"You know what? I think I've put up with an awful lot without so much as a complaint. I lived through your crazy rendition of The Wounded World. I went back to fucking school with an insane drill sergeant to prove some point to a bunch of kids in the Stigma. I let that asshole hold my head underwater. I listened to Patty insist this is some kind of video game quest. I followed him through this interpretation of hell. For this? Stop hiding, Get your ass out here, and explain to me what the fuck is going on. And bring Patty back! If you talk him into doing something stupid after all this, I'm going to kill you with my bare hands!"

 

There was a pounding in his head that was rapidly increasing. As was his heart rate. His body hurt. His arms hurt. And itched. It was driving him crazy. He shrugged off his jacket, despite the cold, and pushed his sleeves up to peer at his arms. There was nothing there. No rash, no bug bites, nothing to explain the sensations that were distracting and bothering him. He turned and glared at the full length mirror again, ready to start another tirade.

 

And nearly tripped over his own feet.

 

His reflection was right there in the mirror, but it was very, very wrong. He crept closer, holding out a hand to almost touch the glass, his image in the glass following his every move. He turned his arm to the side, sliding his sleeve even farther up.

 

His arms were covered in thin red and white lines. Ben knew exactly what they were, he had seen similar markings on countless fans and even a few friend's skin. Scars, and fresher marks. Too neat and even to be accidental. He shook his head wildly, backing away from the mirror and staring down at his skin. 

 

Which remained smooth and unbroken. It was only his mirror image that showed the signs of self inflicted damage. He bit his lip hard, nervously looking from his arms to the mirror and back again. He shuddered.

 

"What...What the fuck is this?" he demanded, though he hated the tremor that came through in his voice. "What are you playing at? Are you trying to make me think I'm going crazy? It's not going to work." He hoped he sounded a lot more certain than he felt. "And what are you doing to Patty? He's had enough to deal with. You better not be trying to send him over the edge. You can't have either of us!"

 

"Is that what you think I'm trying to do?" The voice was oddly quiet and calm, in contrast to Ben's irritation and fear. "I'm not doing this, Ben. You are."

 

Ben saw the flash of movement in the mirror, and spun around to find the Reaper watching him, leaning casually against a wall. Ben folded his arms in front of him, intentionally facing away from the mirror.

 

"Me? I'm not doing anything. I just want to go home. Give me back Patty and let us go home!"

 

The Reaper shook his head. "I'm not keeping you here Ben. Honestly. You have a choice. But you have to find your own way out. I can show you the exit I know, if you choose that way. I can show you a way where you won't have to worry about all the things that have brought you to this point. If you want to go back, though...I don't have access to that exit. That's yours to find."

 

"Great. So I can kill myself, or end up here forever, searching for some magic exit," Ben grumbled. He glared at The Reaper. "I'm not calling you the Reaper or Death, by the way. This is the stupidest thing I've been through yet. You're wearing Aaron Gillespie's body, so I'm calling you Aaron."

 

The Reaper looked amused. "You chose to visualize me this way, but you can call me Aaron if you wish. I have many names. The Reaper. Death. The Guide. You fear me, but I'm merely a messenger if you will. Or a guide. I don't kill, I just collect."

 

"You're not collecting me," Ben replied firmly. "Or Patty. You're not getting inside his head."

 

The Reaper merely shrugged. "That's Patty's decision. You have your own to make."

 

Ben frowned. "What? Life or Death? I'll take life, thanks. Send me back and be on your way."

 

The Reaper raised an eyebrow. "You're an odd one. Most people are either a lot more fearful or a lot more reverential."

 

Ben snorted. "Yeah, well, it's been a weird few days."

 

The Reaper shrugged. "As you say. The reality, however, is that your very presence here indicates an uncertainty in you. A choice you're struggling to make. If you were truly committed to life rather than death, you would never have found your way here. Maybe your conscious mind is fearful enough of death to make you believe you have no desire for it's release, but your unconscious mind is speaking differently."

 

Ben shook his head. "I don't believe you," he replied hotly. "And what about that?" he added, holding out his arms and turning to face the mirror. "Is my unconscious mind thinking about that? Because I can tell you right now, I have never done that to myself. I think you're just playing with me."

 

The Reaper tilted his head to the side, studying Ben silently. Ben could only stand it for a minute or two before he found himself shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot.

 

Finally, he couldn't take it. "What?"

 

The Reaper pointed towards the mirror. "I have no control over what you see," he replied calmly. "What you see is your true self. If your reflection is troubling you, it is not because I corrupted it. It is because you are refusing to acknowledge something about yourself."

 

Ben nearly growled. "I do not cut myself, Aaron."

 

The Reaper nodded. "Perhaps you do not. But can you say you have never hurt yourself?"

 

Ben's chest was uncomfortably tight. His head hurt.

 

"I don't know what you're talking about."

 

The Reaper sighed. "When you're overwhelmed, what do you do?"

 

Ben blinked at him. "...What?"

 

"What do you do?" the Reaper repeated. "Do you think you have healthy coping mechanisms for stress?"

 

Ben just stared. "Are you trying to psychoanalyze me?" he asked in disbelief. "You don't know me at all. You know nothing about my life or my coping skills. I handle things fine. I'm certainly not injuring myself intentionally!"

 

"Do you think physical harm is the only way to injure yourself?" the Reaper replied. "Because I know you don't."

 

Ben didn't like where this conversation was headed. "I...don't know what you mean," he protested weakly.

 

The Reaper just watched him quietly. Ben found himself fidgeting, and then nervously itching his arms. He forced himself to stay still.

 

The Reaper sighed. Ben couldn't help feeling like Death was disappointed with him. He didn't like the sensation.

 

The Reaper pointed to the mirror. "All right. Watch."

 

Ben reluctantly turned to the mirror, watching as his reflection wavered and was replaced by what almost looked like a picture from a TV or movie screen. The mirror was now reflecting a video Ben remembered filming for Rock Sound, back when they were doing their cover shoot.

 

He had been asked what song he had been most proud of. He had replied The Hurt The Hope, explaining how it had started as a demo he had written about how people might not realize it, but people see self harm as inflicting physical inflictions on themselves, when in reality people have different ways of self harming, whether it's drugs or other forms of abusing yourself, that it was a spectrum of behavior rather than one specific thing. 

 

Ben pulled his sleeves down, shaking his head. "That wasn't referring to anything specific," he protested. "I am not hurting myself. Not in any way."

 

The Reaper just stared at him silently. Ben tried to ignore the temptation to go put his jacket back on. He had nothing to prove. The Reaper finally snapped his fingers, and the scene in the mirror changed again.

 

Ben remembered this interview as well. He was sitting on a couch on Warped Tour, Patty curled up next to him, sipping a cup of coffee. The Reaper snapped again, and the scene fast-forwarded. Now the interviewer was asking Ben how he dealt with the difficult conversations he had with fans, especially considering how he could sometimes be like a sponge, soaking in their painful emotions until they weighed him down. Ben winced, remembering his reply. He had been uncharacteristically honest, and watching himself in the mirror admit that he probably didn't have the healthiest way of dealing with his issues, and he had a tendency to drink a fair amount, made him feel vulnerable in a way he didn't like. 

 

The Reaper snapped his fingers again, and the video faded from view, and Ben watched his own reflection shimmer back into view. He was glad he had pulled his sleeves down. He didn't want The Reaper judging what was visible there.

 

"Tell me again, Ben," the Reaper asked, his tone strangely gentle, "Are you sure you're not at least slightly self destructive? That you don't handle things in unhealthy or damaging ways? You worry so much about Patty, but do you ever let anyone in enough to worry about or support you? ...How much of the Poet is Patty, Ben, and how much of him is you?"


	17. Chapter 17

Patty had to stop and gather his thoughts. "Do I want to be dead? Seriously? You realize this is probably the least I've felt like...that, in ages. Shouldn't we have had this conversation like, three years ago?"

 

Thomas shot him a look that was decidedly disapproving. Patty shrugged in apology. "What do you want me to say, it was a bad time then."

 

Death just kept watching him with unblinking eyes. Patty's own were starting to water just watching the ceaseless gaze.

 

Patty had to look away first. "I don't want to be dead."

 

"And yet, here we are," Death pointed out.

 

Patty found himself flinging his arms up in exasperation. "Because you put me here!"

 

Death shook his head. "I didn't. I just come when I'm called. You called."

 

"I did not call for Death," Patty insisted. He turned to Thomas for support. "We're doing the best we ever have. As a band and as people. Why would I want to ruin that? Or do that to my friends? Or our fans?" Thomas looked sympathetic, and considerably less confused than Patty would have expected.

 

"And why is Thomas here?"  Patty demanded, his attention switching back to Death. "He has nothing to do with this. Why are you making him a pawn in your game. Send him home!"

 

Death sighed. "Patrick. I did not call Thomas either. Let me repeat this. This is your waypoint. You created this reality. If Thomas is here, it must be because you need him."

 

"I didn't create this!" Patty protested. "The music video, yeah. We helped come up with the idea. But I didn't intend to end up in a real version of it! Death. I. Am. Not. Suicidal."

 

"Why not?" Death asked simply.

 

Patty rubbed his eyes wearily. "...What?"

 

"Why not?" Death replied. "You all but admitted to me three years ago you were at least thinking suicidally. What changed?"

 

"Everything?" Patty pointed out, though his tone was slightly uncertain. "Everything changed. Our band line up. Our attitudes. Our relationships with each other. I got help. We put out an album that helped me talk about my mental health and get out those emotions. And then we wrote another album. Our fans support us and our music."

 

"And yet you wrote an album entirely about depression, anxiety, suicide, self harm, and Death, with a Capital D," Death pointed out mildly. "I would say you aren't quite done working out some of those emotions."

 

"That album is talking about society as a whole," Patty insisted, frustrated. "It's not just me and Ben."

 

He immediately got sidetracked. "And where is Ben? What are you doing to him? Are you playing these minds games? I want to see him!"

 

Death shook his head. "Ben has his own issues and choices. He has to work those out on his own."

 

Patty immediately shook his head in alarm. "No. Ben is not...listen." He ran a hand through his hair in frustration and worry. "Ben pretends he's fine. And most of the time I let him, because I can tell if he's not, and he knows I can tell, and we have this thing going where if he needs me he'll let me help him as long as I don't make it a big thing. But he's probably less fine than I am. And leaving him alone is a bad idea. You need to let me see him."

 

"Patty. Ben is okay. For now," Death insisted. Patty blew his hair out of his face in irritation and glared.

 

"Honestly. You can't help him if you haven't even reconciled your own reality," Death pointed out. "You have two ways out. One with me, one you have to find yourself. Only when you choose your own path can you help Ben find his."

 

"Would you stop talking like a fucking fortune cookie and help me?" Patty snapped, his worry for Ben overriding everything else. "I am not choosing to go with you."

 

Death merely nodded. "As you wish," he replied. "If you change your mind, you simply need to call for me. As far as the other exit...perhaps this will help," he said, and with a snap of his fingers, disappeared.

 

Patty glanced around, but nothing had changed. The room was the same, bare and dusty and dark, and Thomas still stood silently, eyeing him worriedly. "Well that was helpful," Patty grumbled under his breath. "Next album is going to be nothing but warm beaches, lots of money, and super helpful kind mages."

 

He sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples. "I wouldn't kill myself, even three years ago," he admitted softly, more to the room itself than to Thomas. "I wouldn't do that to my family or friends. Or our fans."

 

"Or yourself?" came a quiet question from a familiar voice.

 

Patty's eyes snapped open. "Oh, now you talk?" he asked Thomas dryly. 

 

Thomas smiled wryly. "Couldn't before. I think when Death snapped his fingers, my voice came back."

 

Patty groaned, sitting down on the old mattress on the bed. Thomas crossed over to sit beside him.

 

"Rough day?"

 

Patty turned to stare. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

 

Thomas grinned slightly. "Hey. I didn't exactly expect to end up here either."

 

"How are you here?" Patty demanded. "And why aren't you confused as hell? Because I sure am."

 

Thomas shrugged. "I don't...I don't think I'm exactly me," he replied.

 

Patty raised an eyebrow. "Uh...what?"

 

"Like, I'm me, but I'm...more than me," Thomas replied. "Like, I know more. It's weird. It's like, I woke up today here, and I remember you from school, but I also remember you performing the Wounded World and...I remember what happened after," Thomas added quietly, looking down at his hands.

 

Patty winced.

 

"I don't...I mean, I know why I did it, and why it felt right at the time, but me now...just doesn't get it," Thomas admitted. 

 

"Because you now has more experience and knowledge and support," Patty replied softly, not sure if he was referring to the first Thomas' decision, or his own thoughts of the last few years.

 

Thomas nodded. "But then...I also know who you are," he added. "And that is confusing as hell, let me tell you."

 

"Who I am?" Patty repeated.

 

"You and Ben. Who As It Is is," Thomas replied. "It's like your whole album history has been downloaded into my brain. Your music is amazing, by the way," Thomas added. "And I kind of know...the history behind Okay and The Great Depression."

 

"That's...really weird." Patty could feel a headache starting.

 

"No kidding," Thomas replied. "Try being in my head right now. It's a jigsaw puzzle. Actually it's like three different puzzles all jumbled together that I'm trying to separate into different pictures."

 

"...Sorry?" Patty offered doubtfully.

 

Thomas laughed. "Pretty sure it's not your fault," he replied. "Although, I'm beginning to think you may have the most overactive imagination in history. You created an idea and inadvertently turned it into reality. Or several ideas. ...I'm not going to think too hard on if my life in school is real or a fantasy you made up. I feel real, and my brain can't take any more without exploding."

 

"Please don't explode," Patty murmured lowly. "You're the only other sane one here at the moment. Actually, you may be the only sane one."

 

Thomas sent him a slight smile. "I don't think you're crazy. Magic maybe, but not crazy."

 

"Ugh, stop," Patty pleaded, covering his ears with his hands. "I can't take any more."

 

Thomas ignored him. "So, Ben then," he said, drawing Patty's attention immediately back to him. "You really think he's...."

 

Patty shrugged uncomfortably. "Ben...he and I are different in a lot of ways. But...it's the ways we aren't that different that scare me sometimes. Because I know the things I've done to...deal reasonably successfully with some of that stuff...Ben hasn't. He worries about me a lot...but the truth is, I worry about him too."

 

Thomas nodded. "All right. So, we figure how to get you out of here first then. Find the key, then find Ben."

 

"I'm not sure that's the way the music video was meant to go," Patty murmured.

 

Thomas tilted his head to the side, studying Patty. "I think we've veered pretty far from the script at this point, don't you?" 

 

Patty had to agree with that. "So...How do I get out of here?"

 

Thomas shrugged. "It's life or death, right? You know you don't want to die, so why are you stuck in between?"

 

Patty tried to focus, though most of his attention was stuck on Ben. "What?"

 

"You're stuck in between," Thomas repeated. "You don't want to die. ...Do you want to live?"


	18. Chapter 18

Ben folded his arms in front of him and leaned against the wall, forcing himself to take on an air of cool disinterest. Death just watched him as if he were humoring Ben's efforts.

 

It really pissed Ben off.

 

"I am not The Poet," Ben informed Death grumpily. "Neither is Patty. The Poet is just as much Ali and Foley and our friends as it is me or Patty. So you can't insinuate that I'm using the Poet to...what, make some sort of desperate cry for help? I'm not. So what if I drink a little too much? So does almost everyone in this scene. It's part of life on the road. It's not a big deal."

 

Death's gaze was too intense on him. Ben tried to stay still and not give away his discomfort as Aaron Gillespie's face stared out at him from Death's cloaked body.

 

"Do you like what you do?" Death suddenly asked, making Ben nearly jump in surprise.

 

"What?"

 

"Do you like what you do?" Death replied patiently. 

 

Ben didn't exactly understand the question. "You mean play music? Of course. The music is the most important part. I'm certainly not doing it for money. If I was, I'd be doing a pretty fucking poor job of it. And I'm not doing it to get laid. I don't think my wife would appreciate it if I went out and slept with a bunch of sixteen year olds."  Ben's face wrinkled up in disgust. "Bands that do this to take advantage of their underage fans are beyond disgusting. We're trying to help them, not fuck them up more."

 

Ben had to glance away from Death's intense stare. "Is that why you do this? To try to help your fans?"

 

Ben stared at his hands, trying to ignore the incessant itch in his arms. "Music did so much for me. It's...a mess out there. Why wouldn't we want to give people a little hope or understanding if we can? You'd be surprised how much just a couple hours with people who understand and care and let you scream out loud and just let go and be part of something...bigger...can help. I...miss that."

 

Death tilted his head, suddenly interested. "Miss what?"

 

Ben glanced up in surprise, fidgeting nervously with the ends of his shirt sleeves. "What?"

 

"You said you missed that. Being part of something bigger and screaming and letting go. You do that practically every night. How can you miss it?"

 

Ben bit his lip. He hadn't meant to let that slip. "I...you're reading into something that isn't there," he replied uncertainly.

 

Death shook his head. "We both know I'm not. Here's your opportunity to talk to someone, Ben. Use it."

 

Ben slid his fingers along his arm, half expecting to feel the raised ridges he knew he would see in the mirror. "It's stupid."

 

Death gave him a half smile. It was a disturbing sight. "You're trapped between life and death. Right now your only clear exit is with me. Is talking really a worse idea?"

 

Ben shifted from foot to foot. "I don't like you," he muttered.

 

"Duly noted," Death replied cheerily. "Now, tell Uncle Aaron why playing music doesn't help you anymore."

 

Ben stared. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

 

Death shrugged. "You're the one who insisted on calling me Aaron. I was merely trying to bring a bit of levity to the conversation."

 

Ben groaned and slid to the ground, wrapping his hands around his knees. "Trust me to find a Grim Reaper with a warped sense of humor."

 

Death flopped down on the floor in front of him, sitting cross legged and propping his head in his hands. "You're the one who's derailing what should be a simple conversation every two seconds, and complaining at me, Cupcake. I'm just mirroring your attitude. It's a valid psychological method."

 

Ben was tempted to stick his fingers in his ears just out of spite. "You're awfully easygoing about the idea that I might decide to kill myself, aren't you?" he complained.

 

Death merely gaze him that unimpressed stare.

 

"You deflect and make jokes and snarky statements about everything," he observed. "I don't think having a heart to heart with you will get us anywhere. I'm hoping to irritate the truth out of you."

 

Ben shook his head wearily. "You think that's a good idea?"

 

Death shrugged. "Is it working?"

 

Ben stared at him. "...Maybe."

 

"Look," Death started, "Obviously, you're here. That means you're struggling with something. We both know that. I can give you a way out. A nice, simple, easy, painless way. None of the mess and grief and possible failed attempts and damage and pain that most people who make that choice need to deal with. Of course, your family and friends will still know in one way or another the choice you made. There's no getting around that little detail. But you won't have to deal with that. You've dealt with a lot on your own. It's your turn to have a choice. But I'm not supposed to pressure you. Or tell you what comes next. Those are the rules."

 

"I don't want to die," Ben insisted quietly, absently stroking his fingers along the inside of his wrist. This time, he could almost feel the lines that hid in the mirror.

 

Death sighed. "But do you want to live?"

 

Ben blinked at him. "...What?"

 

"Do you want to live?" Death repeated. "You're hiding from death, but you're hiding from life. You've made your own in-between place. What are you hiding from?"

 

"I'm not hiding anything," Ben insisted.

 

"There's a weird turn of phrase," Death observed. 

 

Ben scowled. "What?"

 

"I asked what you were hiding from. You replied you're not hiding anything. Are you hiding from yourself, Ben?"

 

"I don't even know what the hell that means," Ben protested. "I'm not hiding anything. Not from myself or anyone else."

 

"Do you like what you do?" Death asked.

 

Ben knocked his head backwards, gently hitting it on the wall. "Didn't we go over this?"

 

"Nope," Death replied easily. "You didn't answer. Not really. Do you like playing music?"

 

"Yes!" Ben replied, immediately and sincerely. "It's something I can throw myself into. The music helps with so much."

 

"And the rest of it?"

 

Ben shook his head. "I don't know what you mean."

 

Death gave him an unimpressed look. "You do too. The relentless touring. Never sleeping in your own bed. Missing your family. Always having to look at the clock because there's soundcheck and meet and greets and music every day. Talking to kids and hearing all their problems. Going out every night even if you're overtired. Constant interviews. Invasive questions from fans or interviewers."

 

"Or you?" Ben interrupted crankily.

 

Death rolled his eyes at Ben. "Tiny living spaces you're trying to fit eight or nine people in. Always having to look happy for the camera. Social media. People who want to talk about suicide, or depression, or self harm. The rest of it."

 

"I'm playing music for  a living with my best friends. The band is in the best headspace it's been in for a long time. Patty's in a much better headspace. We're gaining more fans by the day. And playing more music. Our tech guys are amazing. Our friends are supportive. I have no reason to be unhappy with anything," Ben protested.

 

"Was that what I asked?" Death asked. "I didn't ask you to list your blessings. I asked you if all the stresses that come in connection with all the good things are ever too much."

 

"They're not," Ben continued to insist, getting more frustrated by the minute. "They can't be."

 

"Why not?" Death asked, his own tone urgent and oddly gentle, considering how at odds the two of them had been all along. "Why can't you acknowledge the problems, Ben?"

 

"Because everything is going better than it ever has been, and we have more than we ever dreamed, and I can't go to my friends, one of which is dealing with twice as much attention as I've ever had, and twice as many demands, and screaming fans, and interviews, and stress, and say, 'Hey guys, yeah, so, thanks for everything you've all done and everything it's given me, but some days it's all too much and I fantasize about getting drunk and crashing into a tree or something, so at least you all can believe it was a tragic accident, and I can get out of this headspace I have no right to be in! Sorry to leave you all alone, but I'm too fucking selfish to just deal with my problems on my own and appreciate the things I have! Is that what you want, Aaron? Is that what you want to hear?"

 

Death's tone was strangely consoling. "Yes, Ben. That is what I wanted to hear.  That's all I wanted to hear. The truth."


	19. Chapter 19

Patty was confused.

 

"Do I want to live? I don't....of course I want to live. What kind of question is that?"

 

Thomas had to rephrase. "I mean, you're not suicidal, or at least you claim you aren't."

 

"I'm not!" Patty interrupted heatedly.

 

Thomas held up a hand in apology.

 

"I'm not trying to judge here. Honestly. I'm just asking if there's ever things about your life that make living it difficult. Maybe you're not actually wishing you were dead, but is there something about your life you're trying to escape?"

 

Patty shook his head. "Thomas. I love my life. I love the music we play. I love my bandmates. I love being able to reach people and help them."

 

"It has to be overwhelming though," Thomas replied mildly.

 

"What does?" 

 

"Your music is so heavy. It connects to people who are dealing with their own heavy issues. You guys make it a point to talk to your fans, don't you?"

 

Patty nodded. "At meet and greets and after every show. I'll go out and usually one of the other guys."

 

"That's awesome, you know," Thomas offered. "There aren't a lot of bands that make themselves that available. Not that are as big as you guys are."

 

Patty shrugged. "We've met some amazing people. Some of these kids follow us from show to show. They're more friends than fans at this point. We hear so many amazing stories. These kids have so much strength, and they don't even realize it. They thank us for saving their lives, and while that is nice to hear, that our music means so much, we didn't save their lives. They saved their own lives, and they need to give themselves more credit. They've been through so much."

 

"It has to be hard to hear so many stories though," Thomas pointed out quietly. "Isn't it?"

 

Patty sighed, folding his arms protectively in front of his body. Thomas didn't think Patty even noticed how he had withdrawn into himself at the question.

 

"It can be," Patty admitted softly. "These kids...some of the stuff they've been through is so fucked up. And you wish you could help them, but the only thing we can do is listen, and try to offer comfort. I can't fix it for them. And that kills me. I mean, we've started bringing non-profits on tour with us, so if someone tells us they were abused or something like that we can give them real resources, but I just...feel so inadequate sometimes. I'm not a therapist or a counselor. I'm just a guy who plays music."

 

"You're more than that," Thomas informed him. "You don't just play music. You open yourself to people in a way a lot of musicians don't. You're not just playing music. You're offering people a glimpse into your life, and your emotions, and you're honest about yourself and your life. You're not hiding behind the idea that being a rock star is glamorous, and your life is perfect, and feeding into the idea that being famous will solve all your problems. You're real, and that's why people are drawn to you. Lots of bands write about depression and suicide. Not a lot do it with the respect and honesty you do."

 

"I just want to be able to do something good for people," Patty replied wearily. "There's so much toxic shit out there. If I can use my platform to try to encourage people to just be more empathetic and less judgmental, why wouldn't I?"

 

"That's fair," Thomas allowed. "But here's the thing. Your words touch countless people. They do. Some of these kids may confide in you things they've never been able to say out loud before. And maybe getting a supportive response from you gives them the strength to tell someone else in their lives. Maybe it doesn't. Maybe you change someone's life. Maybe you just make it that much easier for that day. But at the end of the day, what is it doing for you, and what is it doing to you?"

 

"For me or to me?" Patty asked uncertainly.

 

Thomas  nodded. "It's rewarding, right? Knowing you make a difference? Having kids tell you how much your music means? Or how you being honest about going to therapy helped them get help, or how listening to a certain song stopped them from doing something to hurt themselves?"

 

Patty nodded immediately. "Of course. It hurts that they have to feel that way in the first place, but knowing we can do anything to help makes it worth it."

 

"Right. But it's also hard, right? Hearing stories of abuse, of depression, of friends who have died or parents who don't care, and kids who are struggling. As much as they tell you how the music helps, it hurts to hear the stories, right?"

 

"Of course. But I wouldn't want them to stop telling us," Patty replied quickly. "They need the release. They need to feel understood. They need someone to listen to them. I'm grateful that they feel comfortable approaching us."

 

"I'm not questioning if they should tell you, I'm just pointing out the emotional toll it has the potential to take on you," Thomas pointed out mildly. "You refuse to take credit when your fans say you saved their lives. But I wonder if you're too quick to take responsibility if you can't help them as much as you would like to."

 

Patty glanced at Thomas in surprise. "What?"

 

"You know it isn't your responsibility to fix everyone, right?" Thomas asked. "I mean, even with me. You went out of your way to try and fix everything that was wrong in my life. And I'm not saying you shouldn't try and help, any decent person would want to help a friend. But from your standpoint, you didn't really know me at all. And yet you risked your own health and well-being to help me."

 

"I think this situation was a little different," Patty pointed out dryly. "I mean, you were the one constant in a very confusing world we had been dropped into."

 

"Maybe," Thomas allowed, and it struck Patty how odd this whole conversation was. Thomas having the same knowledge he did now was throwing him.

 

"But you still went above and beyond. Ben had his head held under water for fuck's sake."

 

"You swore," Patty observed in surprise.

 

"Shut up," Thomas replied, rolling his eyes. "All I'm saying is maybe you have a little bit of a tendency to put too much pressure on yourself to fix things that aren't your responsibility to fix. You can try to help, of course, but I'm not sure you understand it isn't your fault if things still go bad from there."

 

"I don't think I do that," Patty protested. "...Do I?"

 

"I killed myself and you blamed yourself because listening to your song once didn't magically save me from myself, so you had to spend the next reincarnation or whatever the hell it was of our life stopping me from doing it again," Thomas pointed out dryly.

 

"I had to stop you because I knew what had happened, and wanting someone to not die by suicide is a perfectly reasonable response," Patty replied hotly. 

 

"But did you blame yourself?" Thomas asked quietly. "That's the real question. I heard your song. Then I...died. Did you blame yourself?"

 

Patty couldn't answer for a few long minutes. He started nervously wringing his hands together.

 

"...Patty?" Thomas' voice was gentle in the silence.

 

"...Maybe," Patty finally admitted, the word barely a whisper.

 

"Why?" Thomas asked. "We didn't know each other at all. You didn't know what was going on in my life. You didn't know if I had ever listened to your music before. You knew nothing, and yet you decided to blame yourself because of a song. Why?"

 

Patty shrugged uncomfortably. "It...made sense at the time. I mean, we were in the world we created for the music video for The Wounded World. The song had to mean something, right? You had to mean something. I mean, you do mean something. You're my friend."

 

"Now," Thomas agreed. "Not then. You were so sure this whole thing was about me. And maybe it was, partly. But did you ever consider maybe it was just as much about you and Ben?"

 

Patty had a blank look on his face. He shook his head, confused. "How?"

 

"You two spend an awful lot of time convincing yourselves and each other you're fine, for two people who insist so much that it's okay to not be okay. Maybe you're meant to realize something about yourselves. Maybe you've been so busy focusing on being what every fan you meet needs you to be, what I needed you to be, you've been ignoring your own needs," Thomas suggested. 

 

Patty shook his head immediately. "I'm fine," he insisted. "Comparatively speaking, I'm better than I've been in years. I'm exactly what I need to be."

 

Thomas zeroed in on him. "What do you need to be?"

 

Patty froze. "What?"

 

"You said you're what you need to be. Not what you want to be, or should be, or where you're happy. You said you're what you need to be. What do you need to be, Patty?" Thomas' gaze was unflinching, and Patty had to break eye contact.

 

"I...don't know what you mean," Patty protested, biting his lip.

 

"Yes, you do," Thomas insisted. "C'mon, Patty. What do you need to be?"

 

Patty sighed, inching away from Thomas. Thomas couldn't help notice, in all this time, Patty had never actually touched him.

 

"I'm...what everyone needs me to be," Patty replied reluctantly. 

 

Thomas ducked down so he could force Patty to look him in the eyes. "Patty. What does everyone need you to be?"

 

Patty tried to break contact, but Thomas wouldn't let him. He finally gave in, flinching. "Everything. I'm everything. I need to be better. I need to be broken. I need to stay strong. I need to be able to cry. I need to be happy, I need to be sad. I need to be vulnerable, I need to be stronger than my demons. I need to be everything. Everyone needs something different from me, and I need to be everything!"

 

Thomas reached out, but Patty shied back. Thomas shook his head, dropping to his knees in front of Patty so he could watch him, fidgeting nervously on the bed.

 

Thomas sighed, watching Patty with sympathy. "...God, Patty...."


	20. Chapter 20

Ben backtracked almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

 

"I wouldn't actually, you know," he muttered discontentedly to the Reaper. "I wouldn't kill myself. I don't even really want to." He ran his fingertips over his arms, still almost convinced he could feel the ghostly lines that showed up every time he looked in the mirror. "It's not that unusual to have those kind of thoughts. It doesn't mean anything."

 

The Reaper stood up, leaning back against the wall and crossed his arms in front of him. "Fantasizing about wrapping your car around a tree doesn't mean anything?" 

 

Ben climbed to his feet, opting to lean against the opposite wall, a forced attempt to appear casual. "Suicidal ideation is different from actively wanting to die," he replied defensively. 

 

"So what, you have a degree in psychiatry now?" the Reaper asked, raising an eyebrow as he watched Ben with far too much attention for Ben's liking.

 

"No, I have a band mate who has seen a therapist multiple times, and now has a slight fixation on mental health issues," Ben answered.

 

"Slight fixation?" the Reaper asked.

 

Ben grumbled under his breath. "Are you just going to repeat everything I say in a doubtful tone of voice now?" He glared at the Reaper. "With all Patty's dealt with, he's become pretty insightful into mental health problems. It's not like we've never talked about it. I know what suicidal ideation is, and I know it doesn't necessarily mean someone is actually suicidal."

 

"Doesn't mean they aren't, either," Death pointed out mildly.

 

"I'm not suicidal, I'm overwhelmed!" Ben exploded. "I don't want to die. I want everything to just stop for five fucking minutes. I want one day where I don't have to think about the band, and the guys, and Patty, and the fans, and the interviewers, and where I get more than four or five hours of sleep. I would like to be able to turn my brain off without soaking it in every bottle of alcohol I can find. Is that too much to fucking ask, Aaron?"

 

"No, it's not," the Reaper replied calmly. 

 

"But it's virtually impossible," Ben pointed out tiredly. "Sometimes it seems like the only way to find five minutes of peace is to be dead. So maybe I fantasize about being dead for five minutes because it's the only way my brain would actually shut off. If I could find an alternate way, I would be happy with that too, there just isn't one."

 

"Have you ever asked for one?"

 

Ben blinked at the question. "Asked for one what?"

 

"An alternate way," the Reaper replied. "Have you ever actually said, 'Hey Patty, I'm completely overwhelmed and I need a day to myself before I lose my mind?"

 

"We have responsibilities," Ben pointed out with what he considered to be more patience than the Reaper deserved. "Patty needs a day off more than I do, and he doesn't get it. We all make sacrifices. We've been given so much. It seems pretty fucking selfish to turn around and demand special treatment, doesn't it? I don't need time off, I just need to stop overreacting to everything."

 

"You need a hit on the head," the Reaper grumbled in response. Ben opened his mouth to object, but the Reaper held up a hand. "Shut the fuck up. I'm tired of listening to this nonsense. You two are the most infuriating people I have ever met. Patty thinks he needs to save everyone. You don't think you deserve anyone else's help. The two of you are at complete odds to one another. You could both help each other out of this mess you're both in, but for all your talk about honesty and transparency, neither one of you has a damn clue what the other is thinking. And it's killing you both. I expected you both to find your own keys and make your own choices. Now I'm realizing how badly you two need each other, and how stupid you both are that you don't even understand why."

 

Ben's attempt to complain at that outburst was again interrupted.

 

"You're both your own worst enemy. If I leave the two of you alone to figure yourselves out, you'll both end up dead, and I'll be stuck listening to you both be obtuse for eternity. My sanity can't take it." The Reaper shook his head. "I'm going to break every rule in the book and give you a chance. Don't waste it." He pointed to the mirror. "Figure out what you need to accept. I don't even give a damn if you agree or not. Just figure it out, find the fucking key, unlock the door, and find Patty. Maybe together you two can find your way back to reality. Because if after all this, you both decide to end your current lives, I swear I'm putting in for a transfer. Dog heaven sounds nice. Hell, I'll even trade you two in for claiming the souls of the damned."

 

"I feel like I should be insulted right now, but I don't understand a word you're saying," Ben informed the Reaper.

 

The Aaron look-alike just shook his head wearily. "Find the key, Ben," he ordered, and vanished with barely a shimmer to the air.

 

"Seriously?" Ben groaned as he headed over to the mirror. "If this is the afterlife, I think I'm just doomed for eternity," he grumbled as he peered around the mirror, checking the back, the sides, the frame, and even underneath it before gazing back at his own reflection. "What do I do now?" he asked, staring at the image of himself on the other side of the glass. It stared back at him silently.

 

"I'm not suicidal, and I'm not intentionally hurting myself, no matter what the idiot in the cape thinks," he informed the image. "Sure, I might drink too much on occasion, but the same could be said for Ali and Foley. I don't see them being accused of being suicidal." 

 

Ben sighed heavily, reluctantly pulling his sleeves up again, exposing the damaged skin on his mirror self. 

 

"People do this because it's a better pain than the emotional one they feel," he continued, watching his own mouth form the words. "Or a more controlled one. Or...I don't know the fuck why. I've never done it." He bit his lip, eyeing a particularly deep white mark on his forearm. "I don't drink to cause myself pain, I drink to make the pain go away. ...Which, I guess is what they're doing, right?"

 

He shook his head, stepping slightly closer to the mirror. His reflection followed his steps. "It's only damaging me in their eyes. I know I'm fine. Maybe for some people, it's a way of self...of doing that. It's not for me. Right?" He hesitantly reached out, his fingertips mere centimeters from his reflection's. His mirrored expression didn't change.

 

"I'm not hurting my body," he continued, informing his reflection, who did not look impressed with his logic. "I mean, I guess in the long run, it can be bad for your organs, but it's still different. They're...trading pain for pain. I'm trading pain for...relief," he whispered, staring at himself uncertainly.

 

And his reflection fucking moved. "So are they," it pointed out quietly, and before Ben had the chance to freak out that his reflection had taken on a life of it's own, it had bridged the tiny gap between their fingers, reaching out and slipping it's hand into his. Ben froze, immovable as the image retreated back into the mirror and disappeared completely.

 

He was staring at the blank room. His own reflection was gone, revealing nothing but the room he was currently in.

 

There was something heavy in his hand. 

 

He glanced down at it, barely believing what had just happened. 

 

It was a key. A heavy, old fashioned metal key.


	21. Chapter 21

Patty had been shifting uncomfortably for the last several minutes. Thomas suspected he wanted to get away from his attention, but Thomas wasn't about to let him off the hook, and since Patty seemed reluctant to touch him, Thomas used that to his advantage and all but kept Patty pressed in place, hovering at eye level with his hands on the bed on either side of Patty.

 

Patty's eyes kept focusing in Thomas' direction, and then Patty would catch himself and instantly duck his head down, staring into space somewhere to Thomas' side. Thomas raised an eyebrow.

 

"You know I can keep doing this indefinitely, right?"

 

For Thomas, Patty's expression was almost amusing to watch, in a sad sort of way. He was obviously frustrated, and Thomas wouldn't have blamed him if he snapped at Thomas and pushed him away. However, Thomas knew he couldn't. For whatever reason, physical contact was beyond Patty right now. He was also intently trying to school his face into something calm and non-judgmental. That fact alone told Thomas a lot.

 

Thomas sighed heavily. "Do you ever stand up for yourself?"

 

That shocked Patty into an actual response.

 

"What?"

 

"You're pissed off at me, and yet, you're still trying to figure out how to avoid upsetting me," Thomas observed. "Why?"

 

Patty blinked in confusion. "I...I'm not," he protested. 

 

Thomas inched forward. 

 

"Would you fucking stop that!?" Patty exclaimed. Thomas paused. Patty's tone was... "You're... scared," he stated. "You spent the whole time in school telling me that it was okay for boys to be affectionate, and touch, and hug, and you and Ben are...well, let's just say there were a lot of bets going on behind your backs about who would catch you making out."

 

Patty tilted his head to the side, his lips twitching,  but Thomas just barreled past that fact and continued.

 

"But you're scared to touch me. You weren't then. You are now. Why?"

 

"You saw the video, right? Or Other You did, or whatever. You know about the video for The Reaper?" Patty bit his lip, trying to move backwards on the bed. Thomas moved out of his way a bit, giving Patty his personal space as he sorted through hazy memories that were only partially his.

 

"I...yeah, I think so."

 

Patty curled up on the bed, hugging his knees. "And what happened to the Poet's Wife when I touched her?"

 

"When the Poet touched her," Thomas corrected. "Not you." He closed his eyes, trying to run through the video in his head. It was like remembering a movie he had watched years ago. "She...oh," Thomas said, quieter. "Patty...Why did the Poet have blood on his hands?"

 

"Because his choices ultimately destroyed her, too," Patty replied quietly, hugging his knees tighter. "If he chose the...quicker path out...he would be responsible for everything that happened to her after. If she couldn't take it. If she spiraled...even if she lived, I would have done irreparable damage to her life."

 

"He would," Thomas pointed out gently.

 

Patty's eyes slid in Thomas' direction, and away again. "What?" he asked, apparently finding the wall suddenly fascinating.

 

"The Poet," Thomas repeated. "You didn't say 'he'. You said 'I.' You recognize you aren't the Poet, right?"

 

Patty had to laugh, though it had a slightly hysterical edge to it. He gestured with one hand around the room. "Are you sure, Thomas? Because everything else is exactly the same. Maybe I'm destined to be the Poet."

 

"I love you, but I'm not going to be your wife. Not for an undead eternity," Thomas informed him, mock gravely. "Besides, I don't think that dress of hers would flatter my figure."

 

Patty rolled his eyes, but he managed a small smile. Thomas counted it as a win.

 

"At least it would be one time I didn't end up in the dress," Patty replied wryly.

 

Thomas raised an eyebrow, and then paused as something seemed to be entering his thoughts.

 

"Ah. Youtube."

 

Patty winced. "You can stop downloading memories now," he grumbled.

 

Thomas just shrugged. "They just kind of come. You're not going to distract me, by the way. We're not done talking about your assumption that you're the Poet. You didn't choose death. You're not going to choose death," Thomas stated, like it wasn't even a question. "So why do you feel like you're...I don't know-"

 

"Bloodguilty?" Patty filled in quietly.

 

Thomas nodded, sitting beside him but taking care not to touch him. Patty still couldn't quite stop himself from shying away. "I don't know. I just...We go out there, and talk about this stuff, and it's important, but we're not experts. I'm not a therapist. I can barely keep myself together half the time. Who the hell do I think I am talking to these kids? From the stage, it's easier. I talk about myself, my issues. If they resonate with someone, help them, then I'm happy. But when a fifteen year old girl gives me the razor she's been using to hurt herself, or a seventeen year old boy tells me he thinks he's depressed but his family won't listen, or one of our regular fans who's been coming to shows for years finally gets up the courage to tell us how they've been abused...I'm terrified I'm going to fuck it up, Thomas. I've got a line of kids behind them, and at the most a minute and half with them, and they've finally taken this first step, and they're expecting...I don't even know what from me. And I try the best I can, and they leave, and I spend the rest of the night terrified that I didn't do enough, or I should have said something differently, or I said the wrong thing without even knowing it, and most of the time, I'll never know if they're okay. If I made it better or worse. I don't want them to stop, but I just...I wish I knew I was doing more good than harm."

 

"Patty. You're not responsible for the things that have gone wrong in their lives. You're not responsible for fixing them. No one else expects you to do anything more than offer them a listening ear and try to be supportive. Even that is more than you owe them. You've given them your music. Anything beyond that is just you...being you. Being generous, and truly involved and caring so much. Doing your best to help people is fine. But saving them isn't your job." Thomas held up his hand, palm out, facing Patty. "Do you really think you've done anything to hurt me? Or any of them? Patty, how many of them come up to you and tell you how much they've helped them? All? Most? And how many can you say for sure you've hurt? Any? Anyone at all?"

 

Patty stared at Thomas' raised hand anxiously. "Isn't this the point? If I touch you, and you bleed, then we both know somehow, somewhere, I failed. I didn't do enough. I don't...I don't know if I can live with that."

 

"Patty, what makes you so sure you're going to see blood?" Thomas asked curiously. "It's...it's like you're not just afraid you'll see it. It's like you're sure of it."

 

"Because I already know I can't help everyone," Patty replied reluctantly, staring at his own hands like he could already see the crimson stains. "If I could..." he shook his head. "I mean, I try. And I know I at least do some good. But I can't...it's like I've gotten good at throwing out life jackets, but I can't get him back in the damn boat, you know?"

 

Thomas was confused. "Him?"

 

Patty sighed. "If I know my own band mate is struggling, but we both pretend everything is fine, because I know that's the way he wants it, even if I know it's not healthy, what kind of person does that make me?" he asked wearily. "It's not like I've never tried. But it just...we never get anywhere. He can talk about difficult days with fans, or if technical stuff goes wrong, or if we have a particularly annoying interviewer or something, but anything deeper...he can talk about things that happen around him, but he can't talk about things that happen within him. And I don't want him to completely shut me out, so if I notice something, I'll try to help him, but we don't talk about it. If I can't even get my best friend to open up to me, how am I supposed to believe sixty seconds with a fan will make that big of a difference?"

 

Thomas gave him a sympathetic look. "You know you make a difference with the fans," he pointed out. "They tell you. Repeatedly. And I think you know that. Deep down, I think you recognize what your role with them is. I believe it frustrates you that you can't do more, but I think you understand how much they appreciate and look up to you." He hesitated, twisting his wrist from side to side as both he and Patty followed the movement. His voice was soft in the dead air of the locked room. "It's not their blood you're worrying about seeing on your hands, is it?"

 

Patty shuddered, nervously wrapping his arms around his stomach. "I don't..." he started, and then cut off with a rapid shake of his head. "He needs me," he admitted quietly. "I'm not there, and he's...I don't know what's happening to him and it scares me to death. I don't trust the Reaper. Ben can be so hard on himself. He doesn't need anyone else insisting he's better off taking...that way out. If we were together I could protect him, but I'm stuck in this fucking room!" 

 

"You don't really believe that, do you?" Thomas asked curiously. "Patty...Ben is...fuck. He's way stronger than you think. He knowingly let the Headmaster attack him, for my sake. He stood up to him. And I know how much he cares about you. He would never leave without making sure you were okay first."

 

"He's unbelievably strong," Patty acknowledged. "He just doesn't always recognize that. And I know how easy it can be when you're in a dark place and you feel isolated and alone to start spiraling and to think that...it would be better for everyone else if you just...weren't."

 

"He's not you, either," Thomas pointed out softly. 

 

Patty froze, and then turned towards Thomas, his expression wary. "There is nothing I've said outside of a therapist's office to make you make that leap, no matter how many Youtube videos you now have in your head."

 

Thomas shook his head. "It's more a deductive reasoning coming from someone who has had similar thoughts...considering one of me actually went through with it, I suppose they were more than just thoughts, but you know what I mean."

 

Patty flinched, reminded of the first Thomas' death in The Wounded World reality. That seemed like years ago at this point.

 

"I just mean, you may be right, he may actually be suicidal," Thomas allowed, "but I don't believe he's dead. Maybe this whole experience might actually make him willing to open up."

 

"Or close him down completely," Patty countered pessimistically. Thomas  scowled at him. 

 

"I know, I'm just overwhelmed," Patty grumbled. He sighed, gazing down at his hands. "In any case, I need to get to him. I can't keep procrastinating out of fear. I could be making things worse for him." He held his hands out. Thomas held his own up, mirroring Patty's motions.

 

"You have to do it," Thomas said, keeping still a few inches from Patty's hands. "I don't know why I know, but I just do."

 

"Because this is my nightmare from hell," Patty replied dryly, and reached forward to clasp his fingers with Thomas'.

 

Nothing happened. It was so anticlimactic that Patty almost wished something would happen. Preferably not something bad, but something to give him a clue what to do next.

 

Patty finally released Thomas' hands. "Seriously? Seriously? What the fuck, Death?" Patty complained. 

 

Thomas shrugged. "I don't know, maybe we missed something?" he suggested, sticking his hands in his pockets and shifting from side to side awkwardly. 

 

He suddenly stopped shifting. "What the..." Thomas trailed off, pulling something from his pocket. Something heavy and metal. "...Huh."

 

Patty glanced up at the noise. "Is that a...What the fuck, Thomas?"

 

Thomas gave him his most innocent look. "What? It was in my pocket!" he replied defensively. 

 

"The whole time?" Patty's voice came out as a squeak.

 

"No!" Thomas exclaimed. "At least...I'm pretty sure it wasn't?..."

 

Patty groaned, flopping down on the bed before climbing back to his feet. "I'm going to kill you," he informed Thomas grumpily.

 

Thomas just shrugged. "...Sorry?"

 

"You can't kill him." came another voice, echoing in the room.

 

"Oh, now you decide to show up," Patty complained to Death, who had appeared, learning against the wall.

 

"You look exhausted," Thomas observed, eyeing the cloaked figure critically.

 

Death gave him a decidedly cranky look before turning to Patty. "So. You found your way out."

 

"Yeah, if I had only known Thomas just needed to check his pockets," Patty muttered, before glaring at Death. "If anything has happened to Ben..." he trailed off, unsure what he could actually do to Death, but having no doubt it would be severe and painful.

 

Death rolled his eyes. "He's fine. More or less. He's a pain in the ass, is what he is. You both are. I'm not sure if you're actually smarter than Ben, or if Thomas is smarter than both of you, and that's why you found your key. In any case, you two should be able to meet up now and find your way home. If you wish. My offer still stands until you cross the barrier back to life. Of course, if you don't work out your issues, maybe I'll see you again sooner than you think. No choices next time, of course."

 

That thought horrified Patty. Thomas looked quite ill as well. "We'll pass, thanks," Patty replied uncomfortably.

 

Death shrugged. "Maybe," he replied noncommittally. He then turned to Thomas. "Well, your work seems to be done," he noted casually. "You are strange. You're a mix of everything and nothing. Returning you to life should prove interesting. Who knows, maybe I'll be allowed to get creative," he added with a wink. 

 

Thomas didn't look particularly impressed. He didn't look particularly bothered either. Patty on the other hand, was torn between running out the door to find Ben, or staying for Thomas, who seemed to be getting oddly see-through even as Patty watched him.

 

Thomas, as always, seemed to know what needed to happen. He smiled widely at Patty. "Don't worry about me. It's not like my life can get much weirder. And sometimes goodbyes lead to new opportunities."

 

Patty hesitated for another moment, before running back across the room and pulling Thomas into a close hug. Thomas hugged him back fiercely. "You're both stronger together. Just stop hiding from one another," he whispered, his voice fading away like the rest of him, until Patty was holding nothing but air.

 

Or not quite just air. There was a key clenched in his right hand. He turned towards the door, ignoring Death in his hurry to get to Ben. He was almost sure he heard something from the Reaper about '...a nice long vacation. They owe me for several eons of time anyway...nice little corner...all to myself...no humans...not even dead ones..." as he struggled to get the key in the lock, but then the door knob turned and he was dashing down a hallway without a second glance back.

 

The hallway was long, with doors at regular intervals. Patty stopped at each one, yelling Ben's name and waiting anxiously. The first three doors remained closed, the rooms behind them silent. Patty skidded to a stop at door four, struggling to contain his rising anxiety as he again shouted Ben's name. 

 

This time, there was a muffled answer. Patty shouted again, hoping to hear more clearly. The sound repeated, just as muffled as before, but before Patty could utter another word, the door knob began turning.


End file.
